Thief in the Night
by Scourge1805
Summary: After the Jellicle Ball, a young Cat struggles with injury, guilt, love and his past. When new cats join the tribe and old enemies threatens anew, can these Jellicles at heart defend their new family, earn the respect of the tribe and stay by the cats they love.
1. After the Ball

_**This is a notice for all readers daring to read this story. The characters within are a mix of various productions, primarily the Original West End, Film and Current UK Touring Production. This means that certain characters that are in reality the same character with a different name and look, such as Admetus and Plato, appear as separate characters. A**__**part from my Original Characters and plots, I own nothing. **__**Last and certainly not least, this is a piece of fun and should be treated as such. Enjoy, and please review.**_

Munkustrap felt like he would collapse. He body was overcome with exhaustion and injury; his legs could barely hold him up. The protector fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Almost instantly his family were helping him up, towards his burrow. Demeter, his mate, supported him under one arm. Jemima, Electra and Sillabub scurried along behind, concerned for their father.

Alonzo was in better shape than his brother, having not been thrown like the older cat. His younger sibling Victor helped him up, the dark brown tabby helping the taller, white and black tom to his feet. Alonzo embraced his father as he came over, Old Deuteronomy tottering under the sudden weight. "You're ok," breathed his son. "Thanks to Quaxo," the old cat replied, straightening his son up. "Are you ok?" "Beaten, but unbowed," the young tom responded. So like Old Deuteronomy. He had just been rescued from Macavity's clutches, and he was concerned first and foremost with his tribe. "Is everyone else ok?" Alonzo asked Victor. He nodded. "George, Coricopat and I took care of them."

The Jellicle tribe had once been built around Old Deuteronomy and his numerous children. While Old Deuteronomy had many children, only nine had remained part of the tribe. While the others kept in contact, his son Macavity had fallen, abandoning the way of the Everlasting Cat for a life of crime and debauchery at the head of a gang of feral cats. The tribe had been swollen by the mates of the remaining siblings and their children.

In the aftermath of Macavity's attack and the sudden ascension of Grizabella to the Heaviside Layer, many of the adults had simply been unable to stay awake. Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks were rushing around, trying to make sure all the kittens were safe and away. It was nearly daylight by the time they got back to their den. Inside, they found their eldest daughter still awake. Rumpleteazer was cradling the head of her mate. The young thieving queen looked up at her parents, tears in her pretty eyes. "I need your help," was all she said.

Plato, Tumblebrutus, Bill Bailey and Quaxo were waiting up nervously. Victoria was staying close to Quaxo. Even though she had just been inducted into the tribe during the ball, the snowy teen still felt out of place. Despite their younger age, Jemima, Pouncival and Carbucketty had insisted they be allowed to wait with them. Their friend was more seriously injured than even he had guessed until he collapsed after the adrenalin had stopped pumping through his system. Jennyanydots, Gus, Jellyorum and Skimbleshanks were examining him inside the burrow now. "He shouldn't have gone for Macavity like that," Admetus muttered. The white and ginger cat resented being kept awake. "He wanted to prove himself," Tumblebrutus snapped, more harshly than he had intended to. Admetus recoiled slightly, his fur stand up along his back. "Knock it off you two," Plato said, frowning at his brothers. The teenage cats all swung their heads around as a cat emerged from the burrow. Skimbleshanks wiped his gingery brow, smiling at his sons. Carbucketty and Pouncival snuggled up to their father. "If they're able to come, fetch your parents and Uncle George" the railway cat instructed Jemima. The young kitten nodded, scampering off to fetch them. "You get Old Deuteronomy," he continued, speaking to Plato. The young tom stayed put. "Is he ok?" the teenaged cat demanded. "He's badly injured," Skimbleskanks responded, unwilling to lie to the young cat. "But I don't think he's going to die." Plato nodded, running off. "Fetch Alonzo and Cassandra and the twins," Skimble ordered Quaxo. The teenager obeyed his brother in law instantly, Victoria streaking after him. The railway cat then turned to his remaining nephews, Admetus, Bill Bailey and Tumblebrutus. "You fetch your uncle Tugger and aunt Bombalurina" he ordered Admetus. The ginger scoundrel sighed heavily, sulking off. "You two see if you can find your Uncles Victor and Bustopher. I haven't seen them." The twin teens darted off, hurrying away.

The gathering of the older cats crowded outside the door. "What happened?" demanded Munkustrap in a croaky voice as Demeter and Jemima supported his battered frame. "After Macavity threw Alonzo, the rapscallion tried to take him on," Jennyanydots explained. "Got a cracked rib for his trouble. Foolish young kit." "He's not that young. And it was ever so brave," Rumpleteazer exclaimed. "Yes. Though I hope our young friend didn't pay a price he couldn't pay," Old Deuteronomy responded. At that moment there was a painful sounding yowl from inside the burrow. Jennyanydots and her family shot back inside.

"What's going on?" Rum Tum Tugger drawled, coming upon the crowd of cats. Bombalurina, his mate, trotted up to her sister Demeter and half-brother George. As if in answer, Gus and Jellyorum exited the den at that moment. "He won't die," the greying tom declared. "His lung hadn't been punctured," Jennyanydots explained, placating the young cats that waited outside, eager for news. All the kittens, save for Jemima, were tucked up in bed but the other cats were still awake. Rumpleteazer approached the den. "Can I see him?" the young queen asked. ""There is no point dear. He's not up to much," Jennyanydots responded.


	2. Which was Which Cat?

The subject of all the medical care and concern was lying on the table in the middle of the den. Rumpleteazer, her fur damp with tears, knelt by him. Mungojerrie looked so peaceful asleep. He had a history with Macavity, having once worked as a hired thief and burglar for the large tom, even if he had never actually been a part of the gang of ferals that Macavity controlled. Despite having stopped once Macavity started taking things too far, many of the Jellicles had never let the young cat forget this. Rumpleteazer looked down at her lover's face, bruised from the blows he had sustained fending off Macavity. Munkustrap, Alonzo and the other protectors were expected to defend the tribe – they were toms in the prime of their life, trained beyond the rest in the ways of fighting. But Mungojerrie was barely an adult, an outcast who had grudgingly been accepted by Rumpleteazer and her immediate family after saving the young queen from a group of vicious strays. He was clever and cunning, but not a fighter. Despite this, he had been the first to attack Macavity after he finished off the protectors, and had nearly been killed for his trouble.

The young cat was up and about within a few days. Despite this he had retreated into himself, spending much time alone in the den he shared with Rumpleteazer. Only his mate seemed to be able to reach him – everyone else was just blanked out. Since the attack, security had been beefed up. Admetus, Plato, Quaxo, Skimbleskanks, Augustus, Tumblebrutus and Bill Bailey had joined Munkustrap, Alonzo, George, Victor and Coricopat in guarding the junkyard, when they could be spared or those that had owners were spending time in the junkyard. Mungojerrie was still considered too ill to help guard yet. Jennyanydots had been fussing over him for some time now, eager to return him to full strength. Jenny and Skimble had never really approved of their daughter's choice of partner, but his bravery in fighting Macavity, along with the fact that Rumpleteazer evidently loved him, had finally won them around.

The young cat pushed himself up on his elbows, crawling out of the den and into the dim light of the attic. Most of the cats lived permanently in the junkyard, but not all of them. Gus, Jellyorum and their youngest sons lived in a theatre with the manager, Bustopher Jones and his mate boarded with a wealthy gentleman who lived in St James's Street, Jennyanydots and Skimbleskanks lived with a Station Master and his family, while Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer lived with a rich family in Victoria Grove. As soon as he was well enough, Rumpleteazer and her parents had helped him get back home before he was missed. All the family had noticed was that the amount of petty thefts and broken lamps had both greatly decreased.

The cat now lay on the floor, his yellow eyes scanning the room before him. Rumpleteazer trotted over, licking him affectionately. "Nearly lunch time. What do you fancy?" she asked. Mungojerrie sniffed the air, breathing the smells of his home in deeply. "I smell roast," he meowed, the delicious smell of the joint in the oven wafting over him. Rumpleteazer smiled wickedly. "It is Sunday," she giggled. "And they could do with getting a little thinner," Mungojerrie responded. The two cats stole off through the house, slipping down to the lower levels, heading for the kitchen. Unfortunately they were expected. The cook was waiting for them, broom in hand. "Run," Mungojerrie yelled as she swung at them. The tomcat dived in the way, taking a blow meant for his mate as they fled down the hall.

"Damm and blast," Mungojerrie spat. His ribs were burning like fire. Rumpleteazer licked his flanks as he sat and thought. "The dumbwaiter," he eventually declared. The dumbwaiter ran from the breakfast room on the second floor, down through the dining room and into the kitchen. With cook standing guard outside the door, they would have free run of the kitchen. The two cats flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The breakfast room was empty at this time of day, the family currently occupying the sitting room instead. Rumpleteazer slid open the hidden door, clambering onto the small platform. "Come on," she whined impatiently. Unable to deny her anything, Mungojerrie followed her up. The cat sized elevator was operated by a pulley system inside the shaft, with Mungojerrie soon got the hang of. They shot down the shaft, before colliding heavily with the bottom. Nothing was broken, but Mungojerrie had to stifle a yelp as his ribs flashed with pain again. The oven was just finishing off the roast, the smell filling the room. Potatoes and greens were arrayed on the table, ready for serving. In a move perfected long ago, Rumpleteazer wandered along the wood table, helping herself to a nibble here and there as she approached her target. With an incredible leap, the young queen launched herself onto the oven, depressing the gas nob and killing the heat. Kicking backwards with her rear legs opened the door, revealing the meaty prize. Mungojerrie carefully seized hold of the joint, pulling it from the oven in one swift movement. The cats fled with their prize, back to the dumbwaiter, giggling through mouthfuls of Argentine joint.

Pulling the dumbwaiter upwards, bearing the weight of two moderately sized cats and a joint of meat, was too much for them to accomplish. They barely reached the dining room, the platform whooshing away into the darkness as they scrambled off. The two cats were stranded two floors away from their den in the attic, with incriminating evidence and no means of transport. To add to their woes, Mungojerrie was evidently struggling. His ribs hurt far more than he let on, even to his mate. Rumpleteazer dropped the joint, with her mate following suit. She licked his face affectionately. Mungojerrie responded in kind, before sitting on his haunches and having a think. Despite his reputation, not wholly unearned, for mischief and theft, Mungojerrie was actually a very insightful and intelligent young cat. Rumpleteazer was the same, perhaps offering an explanation as to how they had fallen for one another. While they did steal things and pull pranks, they were very carefully planned heists and practical jokes.

Mungojerrie furrowed his brow. The clock on the wall read half past twelve. They had all of half hour until lunch would start, but only twenty minutes at most until the theft was discovered. Then he remembered the servant's staircase at the back of the house. They knew the cook was downstairs, and the maids would be in the drawing room, preparing it for after. "The servant's stairs," he muttered to his companion. She purred her agreement and they cautiously stuck their heads out of the door.

The hallway was clear, and the cats slid out of the room and hurried down it. A murmuring of voices from ahead of them froze the thieves in their tracks. The family were still in the sitting room, and the door had been left open. Rumpleteazer dropped her end of the joint, slinking around the door to have a look. All the family were there, but none were facing the door. "If we hurry, we can make it," she exclaimed to Mungojerrie. The two cats raced past, hoping to avoid detection. They scurried around a corner and up the stairs.

The two cats tucked into their stolen booty in the attic, tearing chunks off of the joint with their jaws. Their escapades had not gone unnoticed however. A great cry arose from the dining room, as the cook broke the news to the distraught family. "It's that horrible cat!" came the booming roar of the head of the family. Mungojerrie flashed a grin across to Rumpleteazer. No matter what they did, no matter what priceless vase was broken or whose dinner disappeared, no-one seemed able to hold a grudge against either of them. The primary dispute was which cat was responsible. The mother and her two daughters tended to blame Mungojerrie, while the father and two sons favoured Rumpleteazer as the culprit. Only the drunken, alcoholic uncle who lived with the family had any inkling of the truth, muttering under his alcohol riddled breath that he thought that the cats were organised and conspiring against him. Fortunately the fact that he was almost never sober meant that no-one took him seriously.


	3. The Hidden Paw

That night the two cats slipped back to the junkyard. All Jellicles had to meet once a year, but most spent time at the junkyard when they could. There were some however, like Bustopher Jones, that were hardly ever seen other than at the Jellicle ball. The Junkyard was busier than usual, with all the cats chipping in to try and keep the residents safe. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer tended to float around a bit, putting an appearance in at home just often enough not to be kicked out. They had a den in the junkyard, located inside an old car that was rusting to bits. Mungojerrie had taken a place on the guard rota, patrolling the borders of the junkyard. The rain was pouring down, drenching his fur. A silver and black tom trotted out of the darkness, drawing close to the young watch cat. "You shouldn't be out here alone," Munkustrap remarked. "Tugger never showed up," the younger cat clarified. Munkustrap rolled his eyes. Tugger was his old unreliable self, hardly ever turning up to take his turn at guarding.

Munkustrap sat down by Mungojerrie, meaning to talk with the young cat. "I never got a chance to thank you," he began. Mungojerrie shrugged. "What for?" the young thief asked. "There were plenty of bigger cats –Admetus or Augustus – who ran for cover at the first sign of trouble. You could have gotten killed doing my job. With your history … it's amazing." Mungojerrie turned to the larger cat, a scowl on his face. "My history? I've made my share of mistakes Munkustrap, but I've made peace with my devils. I didn't ask questions, questions that should have been asked and that's on me. But the second I found out … what he was, what he was doing, I cut my ties with him." The young cat was glaring up at Munkustrap. "I know what happened between you two. I wouldn't forgive him either. But you forget that she's not the only cat he took." Munkustrap flinched at the memory of had had happened. He and Demeter, sweethearts since kittenhood, had only just mated when she was kidnapped by Macavity. He held her for several weeks, doing unspeakable things to her, until Munkustrap had led a strike team of cats to rescue her.

"I'm part of this family you've carved out, and I honoured," Mungojerrie continued, seeing he had hit a nerve. "All I can hope is that nearly getting myself killed might convince some of you that I'm not the cat you think I am." With that the young tom leapt down to the floor, yelping on impact. He was still hurting badly. Munkustrap turned away, heading back towards the middle of the junkyard. Demeter and Jemima were waiting for him. The kitten bounced towards her father as he approached. Her mother slinked over, nuzzling against her mate. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "I think I may have horribly misjudged our young friend," Munkustrap said. "Where are Electra and Sillabub?" he asked. "Jellyorum took the kittens off to play." "Is someone with them?" the tom demanded. "Alonzo and George and those twins of Jellyorum's went with them." Munkustrap nodded, reassured.

On the other side of the junk yard, the kittens were tumbling around. Two of the teenage toms, the twins Tumblebrutus and Bill Bailey, had graciously acquiesced to being used as living climbing frames by the others. Alonzo and George were reclining nearby, keeping a watchful eye out for trouble. The motherly Jellyorum tried to get the kittens organised, but the little fur balls refused to be tamed. There was a yelp of annoyance as Pouncival came loose, tumbling to the floor. Tumblebrutus fought his way clear, helping the young kitten to his feet. George got up from his perch, his eyes flickering. "Shhh," he ordered suddenly. The kittens squealed in delight, sure this was some new game. Only Tumblebrutus and Bill Bailey seemed to understand, helping their mother make the kittens be quite. The twins were really old enough to have started hanging out with the older males, like their brothers Plato and Admetus, but Bill Bailey at least still enjoyed playing with the kittens. His brother seemed closer to Quaxo than most, spending a lot of time questioning the magical cat about his powers.

Alonzo stood up, his white and black patchwork frame rising to tower over the kittens. "What is it?" he asked. George held up a paw for silence. Suddenly a twig snapped out of sight. The kittens squealed, no longer thinking this was a game. "I'll get them back to the dens," Jellyorum said. Her younger brother nodded as George crept forward. Something wasn't right. George growled in the back of his throat, sniffing the air. A waft of unwashed fur and other assorted filth struck his nose. "Macavity," he hissed. Alonzo glared around. The Hidden Paw was somewhere in the darkness and rain, hiding in plain sight.

Jennyanydots was surprised when Jellyorum and the kittens came running back into the clearing that the dens were arranged around, hotly pursued by the two toms that had been with them. "Macavity's out there," Alonzo breathed heavily. Etcetera gasped. Alonzo whistled, a high shrill sound. Cats from all over the junkyard swiftly converged on the dens, alerted by the emergency signal.

Mungojerrie heard the alarm whistle and headed back towards the dens. Suddenly he spied a flash of white off to his left. Victoria was lying asleep in a little hollow. "Victoria. Victoria," the young cat hissed, but she couldn't hear him. Suddenly he remembered. Victoria, like so many other white cats, was partially deaf. He crept over, shaking her awake. The white queen stifled a squeal. "Listen. You need to get back to the dens. Someone called the emergency signal and…" At that point Victoria screamed, pointing behind Mungojerrie. The tom spun around, just in time to take a blow to the head that sent him flying. "Macavity," shrieked the panicking queen. "Run," yelled the tom, staggering to his feet before launching himself at the larger cat. Macavity was taken by surprise as Mungojerrie's entire mass slammed into him, but the adult tom quickly recovered. His claws raked Mungojerrie's hide as the tabby tom snarled and lashed out. The bigger cat suddenly kicked his feet out from under him, catching the young tom before he hit the ground and throwing him. Mungojerrie avoided the ginger cat's eyes, knowing all too well how easily Macavity could hypnotise him. The larger cat laughed, a cruel, cackling noise. "What do we have here?" he teased as the combatants circled one another. "A traitor with a backbone. How unusual." He charged Mungojerrie, who dodged by the skin of his teeth. "Is this how you want to die, kit," Macavity snarled. "Alone, abandoned, defending cats who don't give two shakes about you?" "Better to die than dishonour my friends," Mungojerrie snarled. "Dishonour? You're a thief Mungojerrie. We have no honour." The younger cat growled. "There is no 'we.' I'm nothing like you," he spat. "No. I would never have gotten into a fight with a tom bigger, stronger and smarter than me," Macavity laughed, slamming the younger cat to the floor. He planted a paw on Mungojerrie's throat, choking the life out of the younger cat. "Tell the devil Macavity sent you," the older cat sneered. Mungojerrie lashed out in a desperate last blow, catching Macavity in the stomach. With a yowl of pain, the bigger cat staggered backwards, blood dripping from his wound. "You'll pay for that you little flea," he roared. Suddenly a ginger streak smashed into Macavity, latching onto his back. Mungojerrie stood up. The new attacker tumbled free, landing at Mungojerrie's feet. Rumpleteazer looked up at her mate. "Couldn't let you fight him alone," she breathed. "How touching," Macavity snarled. "You can die together." "I love you Rumple," Mungojerrie said. "I love you too," Rumpleteazer breather, struggling to her feet. Mungojerrie squeezed her paw affectionately before stepping in front of her, facing their attacker. "Come on then," he yelled. Macavity lunged, picking him up by the throat. Stars started to pop in front of the younger Tom's eyes. At that moment a bolt of lightning struck Macavity, throwing him flat on his back. Mungojerrie hit the ground hard, winding him. Quaxo stood there, the other Jellicles behind him. Macavity took one look at the crowd of angry cats bearing down on him, turned and ran. The younger males, led by Alonzo, gave chase, not stopping until Macavity was well away.

The queens, along with Skimbleshanks and Munkustrap, helped Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer to their feet. "Just what do you think you were doing, young lady?" Jennyanydots demanded of her daughter. Rumpleteazer didn't say anything, just throwing her arms around her mother. Etcetera, Carbucketty and Pouncival clung to their older sister, relieved that she was ok.

Mungojerrie leant heavily on his father in law. Blood dripped from a multitude of injuries, including a nasty gash on his face. "Is he gone?" the teenager asked. "Yes. You saved Victoria," Munkustrap breathed. The white teen trotted towards her rescuer. "Thank you," she sobbed, hugging the bemused tom who flinched. "Watch the rib," he laughed as Victoria looked shocked. "Anyone would have done the same." "But not anybody did. You did," Rumpleteazer exclaimed, throwing herself at her beloved mate.


	4. New Arrivals

The next night Mungojerrie was back on patrol. He had escaped without any serious injuries this time. The young cat could hear a snuffling noise in the darkness. The faint scent of cat, mixed with dirt and obscured by water, assailed his nose. Crouching low, Mungojerrie signalled to his fellow guard. Munkustrap trotted over. A mewing sound could be heard nearby. A pair of bright golden eyes stared out of the darkness. Mungojerrie and Munkustrap, crouched low and approached. A little way away a trio of young cats were lying on the ground. One was a tom slightly younger than Mungojerrie, with deep black fur and golden eyes. The black tom's companions were a small calico queen kitten and a coppery tom kitten. Both were filthy and their ribs were visible under their fur. The kittens could barely speak, much less stand. They were evidently exhausted and weak with exposure.

Their companion recoiled from the guards, standing over his fellows. "Don't come near," he hissed, his eyes golden unblinking. Munkustrap almost laughed. "Are you going to fight us?" he asked. "If you touch my brother or sister, yes," the young cat snarled. "Do you know where you are?" demanded Munkustrap. The black cat remained silent. "We're looking for someone," whimpered the rusty kitten. "And who would that be?" demanded Mungo. "Old Deuteronomy. Our mother said he lived on this side of the river," the newcomer replied. "Please, do you know him?" begged the calico kitten. "We've been looking for so long." Mungo and Munk looked at each other. "How did your mother know where he lived?" asked the silver tom, staring at the black teen. "He's our granddad," the copper cat replied. "But we've never met him." "What was your mother's name?" demanded Munkustrap. "Evita," the kitten sobbed. Munkustrap's eyes widened. "Where is she"? he asked. "She … She's dead," whimpered the young queen. The black hissed. "Be quiet," he whispered to his companions, though in a kind, quiet voice. Munkustrap's face fell. Evita had been one of his younger sisters who had left. "What happened?" he asked softly. "She was killed by another cat," muttered the black tom. "A tall ginger feral with sunken eyes and a high domed head." "Macavity," snarled Munkustrap.

"What do we do?" Mungojerrie whispered to Munkustrap, turning away so that the newcomers could hear them. "Take them to Old Deuteronomy?" "They are my niece and nephews, his grandchildren. We have to look after them," Munkustrap said, tears welling in his eyes. "What is they're not who they say they are?" the younger cat insisted. Munkustrap shook his head. "I believe they are. The calico kitten looks just like her mother, and there is something of her in the copper one as well. Coricopat and Tamoline can tell us either way." He trotted up to the three young cats. The black one's fur stood up along his back as he bared his claws, snarled and took up a fighting position. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," Munkustrap said. "I'm going to take you to Old Deuteronomy. You may not have heard of us, but you have strayed into Jellicle Cat Territory. You will be safe here." The kittens tried to crawl towards the guards, but their brother seized hold of them, staying put. "I you're part of the Jellicles, you're Old Deuteronomy's son. What's your name?" he asked. "You are smart, young man. My name is Munkustrap, and I am your uncle." The black cat's face split into a wide grin. "Thank the Everlasting Cat. My name is Erik. This is Rusty and Syrie."

The three cats were led back into the settlement, Munkustrap and Mungojerrie carrying one of the kittens each. They were so thin that they weighed almost nothing. The black tom trudged behind them, his eyes shining in the dark. With his black coat, golden eyes, haggard figure and scars that were now visible under the moonlight, he looked like a miniature panther. They were taken to the den that Coricopat, Tamoline and Exotica shared. The mystical siblings home was filled with strange smelling smoke from the herbs that they burnt to help aid their powers. The trio bowed low as Munkustrap entered, as did their sister Cassandra who was with them. "You want us to examine the newcomers you discovered on the edge of the junkyard?" Tamoline asked before Munkustrap could even open his mouth. Mungojerrie nodded. Erik hissed. "How did she do that?" he snarled. "Don't worry Erik," Coricopat said. "We are psychics. Mystical cats with powers even we do not understand." Rusty and Syrie bounced up and down, eager to explore this new experience. Erik however laid a paw on each of their shoulders, pushing them down. "You do me first, before I let you lay a finger on them," he scowled. Coricopat smiled, taking the young tom's paws in his own. Erik shuddered as Coricopat recoiled. "What is it?" demanded Munkustrap, worried that the young cat was not who he said he was. "He is Evita's son Munkustrap, and he means us no harm," the mystical tom stammered. "But … oh Everlasting Cat. You poor young kit." Munkustrap frowned. "What did you see?" Erik shifted uneasily. "So many fights. So much blood." Erik shook his head. Rusty and Syrie looked questioningly at their brother. "Why don't we see if we have any food for the poor things?" Cassandra asked Exotica pointedly. The two sisters led the kittens into a back room where the siblings stored some food. As soon as they had left, Munkustrap turned back to Erik and the psychic twins. Mungojerrie frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked. Coricopat and his sister looked pityingly at Erik.

The teen squirmed under the scrutiny. "When Macavity … when he … when we were on our own he took us away. By force. Threatened that he'd kill rusty and do worse than that to Syrie unless I did what he told me to. He used to throw me into this ring with other cats and make us fight. I got the stuffing beaten out of me more time than I care to remember. Macavity let other cats bet on the results." The teen started to break down, his legs shaking. "Eventually I couldn't take it anymore. I knew that one more bad fight could finish me, and then where would the others be? So one night I picked the lock on the cage he put me in. Stole some keys, and let all the prisoners loose. Me, Rusty and Syrie ran like hell until we thought we were far enough away that he couldn't catch us."

Munkustrap shook his head. "I am so sorry. To think that any cat should have to go through that, and one so young. Macavity will be made to pay for this. I promise." The silver and black tom squeezed the teen's paws comfortingly, feeling a multitude of scar tissue. He frowned slightly. "I'm covered in them," Erik muttered. "If I had lighter fur, I'd look like a road map." In the flickering light of the den, Mungojerrie saw for the first time that Erik had a slice missing from his left ear.

_**For those of you less obsessed with Musicals than me, Erik is the Phantom's real name from "Phantom of the Opera," Rusty is the hero of "Starlight Express," "Evita" is a musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber about Eva Peron and Syrie is the female lead in his musical "The Like of Us," about Thomas Barnardo. This is not an attempt at cross over or 'other characters as cats.' I just shamelessly stole the names as a reference to my fondness for musicals.**_


	5. Take It or Leave It

The cats were met by Jennyanydots first of all after leaving the mystical cats den. "Oh by the Everlasting Cat. What's happened?" Mungojerrie sat the kitten he was carrying down and explained. The motherly queen called over her sister Jellyorum. "Would you look at this," she said. The two kittens stood shakily on their legs, covered in mud and assorted grime, wet to the bone and shivering with cold. "Oh the poor dears. "You come with me," the queen ordered. The kittens nodded, shuffling off. Their black older brother remained. "I want to see Old Deuteronomy," he demanded. Despite the young cat's bravado, Mungojerrie could now see that really he was just a tired, scared young tom who would do anything for his brother and sister.

Old Deuteronomy was still awake, talking with Gus about how much better the old days were. Munkustrap nodded respectfully on the entrance to his father's den. "Enter," came the old cat's voice. Munkustrap pushed the curtain aside. "What is it," asked his father warmly. "There's … there's a cat to see you father. A young tom. He's Evita's oldest kitten." Old Deuteronomy nodded sadly. "I take it she is no longer with us." Munkustrap shook his head. "Send the young lad in," his father said. "I would like to speak with him."

Erik sidled in, suddenly aware of how filthy he was. His fur was clumped and streaked with mud, slime from a fetid lake they had crossed clung to his underbelly. Old Deuteronomy took one look at the young tom and clapped his hands together. "Come here," he boomed, embracing the tom in a massive bear hug. The teen was taken aback, squirming free. "What's your name? What brings you out here?" asked his grandfather. "My name is Erik. Me and my brother and sister have come, hoping to find somewhere safe to stay. Our … our mother is dead. Me and the others didn't have anyone else to turn to. I can't feed and protect them, not on my own. Mum used to tell us stories, about you and how wonderful you were to her. We won't be any trouble, I can hunt for all of us. We just need somewhere to stay where they aren't in danger of being gutted by ferals in their sleep. Rusty and Syrie are too young for this," Erik gushed out, falling to his knees and bowing his head. "Of course you must stay," Deuteronomy said with a sad smile of his face. "Even if you were not my grandchildren, who you undoubtedly are, you have gone through what no cat should suffer so young. Where were you living?" "All over the place. We spent time in Malet Street Gardens, Kensington Gardens. Anywhere we could find shelter really." "Well you are here now, and of course you must stay. On one condition." "Yes of course, anything," Erik pleaded. "When you have all freshened up and had something to eat, I would like it if you would bring your brother and sister here."

Erik left soon after, eager to find his siblings. Mungojerrie went with him, showing the young cat around. Mungo could sympathise with the poor teen, having lived on the streets for some time. He couldn't imagine what doing that with two kittens trailing around would have been like, and couldn't begin to think about being made to fight others cats like that. The pair entered Jenny and Skimble's den. They found the kittens, clean and fluffed up, eating fish and milk in the centre of the burrow, with Jellyorum, Augustus, Skimble and Jenny sitting with them. Erik smiled, the first time Mungo had seen him doing anything other than scowl. Rusty and Syrie bounded up to their brother, bowling him over. "Get off him, get off," ordered Jenny, while Skimble lifted the two kittens off their brother. "It's alright," Erik muttered shyly. Syrie nodded eagerly, reaching for her older brother. "I've just gotten these two clean, and you're not going near them until you've been cleaned up," Jenny insisted. The kittens pouted, but Erik nodded in understanding. "Ok. I'll go and stand in a pond for a bit." Jenny scoffed. "You will not. I've got an old bowl in the back room, filled with rain water you can use. And don't come back in here until you're clean." The queen smiled kindly at the scarred teen. "I get some food together for you dear. I can see your ribs, poor thing." Erik thanked her, before heading into the back room.

"What have you found out?" Skimble asked Mungojerrie as Rumpleteazer cuddle up to young tom. "They're Evita's kits," Mungo said, unwilling to tell Erik's story in front of his siblings, or Etcetera, Pouncival and Carbucketty. It was clear that the kittens didn't understand or know what their brother had done for them, and Mungo had no wish to tell any of them about it. "Anything else?" Jenny asked. Mungo shook his head, glancing pointedly at the kittens, who were totally engrossed in their food. The older cats gather in, listening to Mungo. "They were captured by Macavity. The flea bag made Erik, the older one, fight or he'd kill the brothers and do things I don't wish to contemplate to that poor little queen." Jenny and Jelly covered their mouths in shock, while Skimble shook his head. "Why would he do that?" Augustus asked, looking at his mother. Jellyorum shook her head. "Loot. Erik said that Cats bet on the fights," Mungojerrie explained. Rumpleteazer scowled. "Did you know anything about this?" Jellyorum asked Mungo. "What do you think? I only met the scumbag all of maybe three times. I thought he was running a fencing ring. Not kidnapping, and certainly not that." "I wonder if Demeter knew." Rumple asked. "No. She had got away before any of this happened," Mungo replied.

The cats sat down to supper as the two new kittens polished off their third saucer apiece of milk. "I've never seen such hungry kits," Jellyorum exclaimed. "Sorry," Rusty sniffled. "We haven't eaten in so long. I can't remember the last time I had milk." Jenny smiled. "Tuck in dear. There's plenty to go around, and I'm sure you need it more than us." After a while, Erik strode in. His sleek fur had been well soaked in water, then dried off by a rigorous roll around on an old towel. His coat, when clean, was deep black, without a speck of any other colour on him. Golden eyes gleamed out from his dark face, currently split in a bright grin. Rumpleteazer breathed in sharply. Mungojerrie nudged her disapprovingly, but even he had to admit that the younger tom looked incredibly striking, even if he was thin as a rake.

"Here you go young man," Jenny said, pushing a bowl of cream and a fish towards the tom. Erik frowned slightly. "I can't pay for this," he said. "I'm sorry, I can't repay you for what they've eaten already." "Good to see that Evita brought you kits up right," Jenny said approvingly. "But it's fine." "We're happy to help," Skimble said. "Speaking of which," Jenny continued "Where will you three be staying?" The kittens looked around in alarm. "I thought we were staying here?" Syrie mewed. "Mummy always said that the Jellicles would look after us," whimpered her brother. Erik smiled at the young cats. "Old Deuteronomy said that we could stay." The kittens whooped for joy, bouncing up and down. "But I'll have find us a den somewhere here. These kind cats have been incredibly generous, but we can't intrude on their hospitality any longer." Etcetera and her brothers looked at their parents. "Oh please mummy. We have plenty of room now the Teazer's living with Mungojerrie. Oh can't they stay with us?" the kittens whined. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer sniggered together at the little balls of fur pleaded with their parents. Jenny and Skimble smiled at each other. "Well, we've talked about it and … if you want to, of course you can stay with us. We have a spare room you could use Erik, and I'm sure Syrie and Rusty wouldn't mind bunking with the kittens." Syrie and Rusty collided with their brother at high speed, jumping up and down on him. "Can we, Can we?" they squealed. Erik struggled up. "I couldn't put you to all that trouble," he said, always the gentleman. "Don't be ridiculous lad," Skimble replied. "We'd be happy to look after you. Least we can do for old Evita's kits." Erik looked back to his siblings. "If you're sure … We'd be delighted." The den exploded into cries of delight from the five kittens.


	6. Settling In

Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer and Jellyorum escaped from the cacophony. Plato and Tumblebrutus trotted up to them as Gus came out of Old Deuteronomy's den. "What's going on," Plato asked as Tumblebrutus rushed to help his father. "Me and Munkustrap found a trio of cats on the outskirts of the junkyard," Mungo explained. "Jenny and Skimble just offered them a place to stay." "New cats?" Tumblebrutus said eagerly. "Aunt Evita's kittens," Rumpleteazer continued. "Do you remember Evita dear?" Gus asked Jellyorum. The old cat had mild palsy in his left arm, causing his paw to shake, and he was getting on with only Old Deuteronomy being older. Despite this he was still as active as he could be, dancing with the other Jellicles, taking part in the plays they so often put on and always eager to play with the kittens. Gus and Jellyorum had fallen for each other when they were much younger and now the elderly couple tried to take life easy. Like Old Deuteronomy they had numerous children, with all but Augustus and the four youngest having left. Plato, Admetus, Tumblebrutus and Bill Bailey were litter mates that were nearly fully grown toms. All still lived with their parents and a theatre manager, helping out around the stage, clearing out the mice and rats that their father just wasn't a terror to anymore and looking after their aged parents. At the junkyard however they lived separately, allowing each of the toms to have their own space. Augustus was much older than his brothers, having his own mate and humans. It was a long standing joke that the kittens insisted on referring to him as Asparagus or Gus, just like his father, because of the similar names. Some visitors and newcomers even got confused, though they could not be the same of course as each Cat's second and third names were unique. Jellyorum and the older cats swore that he looked just like his father when he was younger.

Jellyorum smiled at her mate. "Of course I remember her. Such a pretty little thing. Beautiful black, white and ginger fur." Jellyorum smiled sadly. "Such a pity. I'm sure she would have been happy here. Broke father's heart when she left." At that moment Erik and his siblings slid out of the den, freezing as they saw the two unfamiliar toms. Erik instinctively stepped forwards, pushing his brother and sister behind him. His golden eyes fixed on Plato and Tumblebrutus. "Is everything ok?" Mungojerrie asked the young cat, confused by his behaviour. "Who are they?" Erik growled. "This is Plato and Tumblebrutus," Rumpleteazer answered. "They're your cousins." Erik slowly back down from the other teens, allowing Syrie and Rusty closer to examine them. Plato introduced himself, as did Tumblebrutus, with a mock bow that made Syrie giggle. "Do you want to see something cool?" Plato asked enthusiastically. The kittens nodded. Plato whispered to Tumblebrutus and the two brothers sprang backwards, paw over paw as they back flipped four times in perfect synchronisation. The kittens clapped in appreciation of the acrobatics as the two teens landed on their paws.

Mungojerrie heard a snort from next to him. Rumpleteazer grinned, pretending to strut around like the two acrocats. "What's up?" came an arrogant drawl as a large Maine Coon rounded the corner, coming upon the small group. Mungojerrie scowled inwardly. Unlike most of the younger cats, Rumpleteazer included, he disliked Rum Tum Tugger. He and the tall cat had never seen eye to eye, particularly after Tugger had started flirting with Rumpleteazer. Mungojerrie had the utmost trust in his mate, but wished that Tugger would respect the rule that mates were off limits. Tugger's mate Bombalurina was almost as bad, even having gone after the young thief. Why they couldn't just be satisfied with each other, the thief couldn't understand.

"What do we have here?" the Maine Coon asked, cocking his head as he examined the newcomers. Erik could practically see the cocky arrogance rolling off the larger cat in waves. "A trio of Kittens Mungo and Munk found on the edge of the territory," Jellyorum replied curtly, frowning. Like many of the older cats, she shared Mungojerrie's view of Tugger. "My brother had been adopting kittens has he," the large tom laughed, crouching low to look at the young cats face to face. Erik snarled, causing Tugger to hastily retreat. "Scared Tugger?" Mungo asked, a smile on his lips. Tugger scowled at the young tabby. "It's alright Erik," Rumpleteazer mewed to the black furred teen, stepping in-between Tugger and the paranoid tom. "He's not dangerous." "No … just annoying," Mungojerrie cut in. "Ha, ha, ha," Tugger muttered. "Little Mr Sneak Thief thinks he can play with the big boys." At that even Rumpleteazer frowned reproachfully at the cat. "Say that again, I dare you," Mungojerrie snarled, striding up to the Maine Coon. "Didn't you hear me? I called you a sneak thief," Rum Tum Tugger replied, a smile on his face quickly being replaced with something coming close to fear as Erik and Mungo advanced on him. It suddenly struck Tugger how muscly the pair of teens looked, and how Mungojerrie had held his own against Macavity only the previous night. "Whatever," Tugger drawled, turning on his heel and leaving hurriedly.

"Who was that?" Erik inquired of Mungojerrie as they trudged on, leaving Jellyorum, Gus and their sons behind. "Rum Tum Tugger," Rumpleteazer replied a little too quickly. Mungo raised an eyebrow to her, causing the young tabby queen to blush as red as Bombalurina. "He the resident rebel and queenizer. No respect or maturity. All the kittens, and most of the teens," he said, glancing at Rumpleteazer who blushed again, "Fall over themselves as part of his little fan club. Even some of the younger queens who should know better. You should see Tamoline. Normally she's so serene and mature, put her in the same room as Tugger and she becomes a drivelling kitten." Erik laughed, a harsh sound that sounded strangely like a dog's bark. "You're laughing now, but wait until he's got Syrie and Rusty hanging off his tail," Mungo muttered darkly. "He's not that bad," Rumpleteazer clarified. "He's a bit self-absorbed, but he's a good cat really." "And so handsome," Syrie squeaked before she knew what she was saying. Erik, Mungo and Rumpleteazer all looked at the small kitten. "Told you," Mungo laughed. "If you don't take a shine to him, you can join the club. Me, Plato and Exotica are declaring war on him." "What're you going to do?" Erik and Rumpleteazer asked. "We don't know. Maybe shave his mane off," the tabby tom laughed. The teens all laughed together as they continued.

After allowing Old Deuteronomy to meet Syrie and Rusty, the young cats headed towards an area of the dump where there were blankets and pillows to be found in their thousands. The new cats need something to sleep on, even if they were used to hard ground. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done," Erik said to Mungo as Rumple led the kittens on ahead. "It's fine. Any cat would have done the same." At that point they came upon the soft ridges and folds of their destination. Mungo could see a family of cats already rooting through the pillows and duvets. Munkustrap and Demeter's scents, mixed with those of their daughters, drifted towards the cats. Electra and Sillabub bounded down the hill of fabric, eager to meet the new arrivals. Jemima held back, descending at a more leisurely rate with her parents.

Rusty and Syrie ran towards the kittens, eager to meet them. Demeter smiled at them. "You should have told me you were starting a family Rumple," she laughed in a clear voice. Rumpleteazer rolled her eyes. "Good evening ma'am," Erik nodded to Demeter. "Oh, call me Demeter," the queen smiled. Erik nodded back. "This is Electra and Sillabub," Munkustrap introduced two of his daughters. "And this is Jemima." The shy little queen trotted out from behind her parents and sat on her haunches, looking at the black tom. Erik nodded politely to her and did the same. Munkustrap smiled. "Would you look at that, one would think you two were mutes," he chortled. He turned to Demeter. "Why don't we leave them here for a bit? Let them get to know the new ones." Demeter frowned slightly. "What about Macavity?" she asked in a low voice. Mungojerrie spoke up. "Me, Teazer and Erik will stick around, and you don't need to go too far. Just let them get to know each other without adults breathing down their necks. The kittens eagerly agreed. "Oh alright then," Demeter sighed.

Electra and Sillabub were getting along with their new found cousins like a house on fire. Only Jemima kept her distance slightly, as if scared of the newcomers. Rumpleteazer strode over to her, settling next to her cousin. "Everything ok?" she asked. To her surprise Jemima did not sound scared or frightened. She sounded … dreamy. "Yes, I'm ok," she muttered as if her mind was on something else. Rumpleteazer sunk back to her mate, nuzzling against the tabby tom. Erik padded up to them, sitting down and licking his front paw. "Who's that?" he asked, nonchalantly nodding towards Jemima. The young queen noticed the slight motion and suddenly got up, pacing over to her sisters where they were tumbling around with their new cousins. "That's Jemima, and she's strictly off limits," Rumpleteazer retorted. "No idea what you're talking about," Erik replied, but Mungojerrie could have sworn that the black cat's skin just got a little darker.


	7. Several Months Later

Several months flew by, relatively interrupted. Security around the junkyard was still raised, but the paranoia that had followed Macavity's attacks was no longer plaguing the cats. Only Mungojerrie still struggled. Nightmares and terrifying dreams tormented his sleep, and it was becoming a nightly occurrence that he awoke, drenched in sweat and with heart pounding. An image of the massive ginger villain swam in his mind, and no matter what he did, nothing could remove the image. Rumpleteazer had even gone to her mother, though not revealing the reason why, to see if the wise queen had any cures for nightmares. Even at home Mungojerrie was afraid to sleep, fearing that Macavity would steal upon them and ensure that neither cat ever awoke again.

The cats were preparing for another celebration, this time in commemoration of Old Deuteronomy's birthday. No one knew how old the aged cat was, and Old Deuteronomy certainly wasn't telling, but they still celebrated his birthday every year. This also gave the tribe an opportunity to welcome knew members, either by birth or adoption, and to confirm younger cats rise in status as they matured. These celebrations were held three times a year – The Jellicle Ball when one of their number ascended to the Heaviside Layer, the Christmas Ball and Old Deuteronomy's Birthday celebration. Whereas at the last ball there had only been Victoria in induct, this time around there were Evita's three kittens to induct, and multiple kittens and teens to mark the ageing of.

Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie were among those officially becoming adults this time around, along with Jellyorum's sons, Exotica and Quaxo. Jemima, Sillabub and Electra were all rising to officially become teenage cats, much as Victoria had at the Jellicle ball. There was however a question mark over Erik. He was being inducted into the tribe like his siblings, but no one was sure whether he was an adult yet or was still a teen. Even Erik was uncertain as to his true age. Eventually Old Deuteronomy had declared that it was up to the black cat to decide for himself. The difference between teen and adult was a fine one at most – teens were still expected to help with the hunting, teenage toms were expected to help guard and teens were allowed to mate. Erik had swiftly responded that he would rather be inducted as an teen, despite the fact that he was nearly as big as some of the adult toms already. Mungojerrie had thought that Erik had looked distinctly less starved than his siblings, but it had turned out that he was in reality covered in hard muscle and scar tissue. Regular meals and proper exercise, rather than just running and fight, had allowed the kittens to plump out, as kittens should, but had meant that Erik put on more fearsome bulk in the form or more hard muscle. The three cats were still adapting to life in the tribe, though Erik was finding it the hardest. The black cat still snapped at shadows and was seemingly constantly on edge. Only one cat had been able to sooth him, and Mungojerrie was sure that this had had a large impact on Erik's decision, grouping himself with Jemima. The tabby thief thought that if Erik could get a grip of his rampant paranoia and fear, he'd make a fine protector one day.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer where watching the kittens play, watched over by the vigilant Victor and Demeter. "Ah, do you remember being a kitten?" Rumpleteazer said to Mungojerrie as they reclined, watching Demeter attempt to control the raucous kittens. "I was thrown into the Thames while tied in a sack," Mungojerrie reminded her, in a matter of fact tone. Rumpleteazer winced, cursing herself for forgetting. Mungojerrie had been thrown out by his mother's owners, and after escaping from the sack had grown up on the streets. "Sorry … I forgot," she mewed, cuddling up to him. "It's fine," he sighed. "But I do envy them. Plenty of food, a loving family, other kittens to play with. At least Rusty and Syrie will have that now."

The preparation for the ball was going badly. Erik, Syrie and Rusty had apparently never danced in their lives, and teaching them was proving to be a nightmare, even with Quaxo, Victoria and Jennyanydots lending their expertise. Another key problem, alongside food, lighting, security, music, choreography and running order, was that all the males moving from teen to adult needed female partners to dance with. The dance didn't mean anything; much like the Pas de Deux at the Jellicle Ball it was purely symbolic. Some cats deliberately chose not to do it with their real life partner, to allow the moment to be focused purely on the dancing.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were obviously going to be pairing up, and Tumblebrutus had already asked Electra. Quaxo already had a mate in the form of Victoria. This left only three queens among four toms before moving onto the kittens and older queens, and while neither had asked the other, none of the other teens were willing to ask Jemima until Erik had made a move. This was partially out of respect for the charcoal cat, partially because they suspected that Jemima would reject anyone but the newcomer, but mostly it was because none of them really wanted to make the ex-fighter, with a growl that would make a Pollicle Dog run and hide, angry. Plato, Admetus and Bill Baily sat together, attempting to hammer out who was going to ask who.

"How about we draw lots?" Admetus offered. Plato rolled his eyes. The four toms were all born as part of the same litter, but Plato had been born first and was easily the most mature, closely followed by Tumblebrutus. Bill Baily was fun loving prankster at heart, while Admetus had spent too much time with Rum Tum Tugger. "What about Exotica?" Plato asked his brothers, wanting their opinion of the young Abyssinian queen. Admetus shrugged, while Bill Baily clearly wasn't paying attention. "Right then," Plato declared. "I'll ask Exotica." Admetus chuckled. "What?" his larger brother demanded. "I just surprised it took you so long to come to that conclusion," Admetus laughed. "You two have been sending doe eyed looks back and forth for…" His mocking tone was cut off by the rapid application of Plato's paw across his face. "Fancy another," the bigger cat purred dangerously. Admetus changed tack at the speed of light. "Very fine queen, lovely fur, hilarious personality, beautiful moon lit eyes…" Plato drowned out his brother's babbling, turning back to the problem. Sillabub had a thing for Baily, and Plato was fairly sure that his younger brother returned the feelings. That left Admetus. Really Admetus was one of those cats that nature had not intended to settle down – he was the biggest flirt Plato knew, other than his uncle Tugger of course. The grey tom had even caught the gingery scoundrel suggesting he could "teach Victoria some new dance moves." Plato had had a stern word with his brother, reminding him that queens with mates were considered out of bounds. The flirt had simply shrugged and replied that if Quaxo wanted her, he should take better care of her.

Suddenly an idea dawned on the grey tom. "Alright," he said, cutting off Admetus's stream of compliments for Exotica. Bill Baily sprang to his feet, surveying his brother. "You," Plato instructed Baily, taking charge like a born leader, "will ask Sillabub." Bill went red with embarrassment, shaking his head vigorously. "Don't be such a kitten," his older brother ordered. "You like her, she likes you and you both need dates." Admetus leant back of an old tin can. "And if Casanova here is going to ask the lovely Sillabub, who may I inquire will I be asking, oh lord and master of my will?" he drawled sarcastically. "Aunt Jenny?" Plato smiled evilly, which put his ginger brother on edge. "You'll be asking the queen most appropriate for you, dear brother mine," he grinned.

_**Yes I removed Demeter's kits. They were unnecessary and ridiculous, so I axed them. I said major rewrite. **_


	8. Dancing Practice

Mungojerrie yawned widely, too many sleepless nights starting to get to him. Rumpleteazer nudged him in the ribs. The cats were sitting on the side lines while the first group practiced their dances for the ball. Quaxo and Victoria out did everyone, elegantly dancing rings around the rest. Plato and Exotica whirled around, Plato's grin visible even as they danced. Tumblebrutus flipped backwards, landing on slope of rubbish which he slid down, into the waiting arms of Electra. "Alright, Second group," Munkustrap, acting as coordinator, cried. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer spun on the performance space, utilising their signature double cartwheel. Bill Baily and Sillabub, both rather less talented dancers than some of the others, carefully picked their way onto the floor, moving in time with the music. Suddenly a pair of furry bodies collided with Quaxo and Victoria. Quaxo caught Victoria before she struck the ground, before turning to his assailant. But the furry whirlwind was spiralling out of control, colliding with Electra and Tumblebrutus. Plato angrily stuck one paw into the mess of cats, dragging his brother out by the scruff of his neck. Tumblebrutus glared at Admetus as the gingery cat shrugged. "Sorry," he sniggered. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer stormed over to him, Victoria and Quaxo following closely. "What the hell were you playing at!" demanded the magical cat, his right paw glowing slightly with energy. "Just having a joke, magic paws," Admetus laughed. "We thought it would be funny, didn't we?" he said, turning to his partner.

Etcetera disentangled herself from her friend. "Sorry," she muttered. Exotica hissed at the kitten. "Just think about what you're doing," Quaxo snarled. "You could have hurt someone," Victoria snapped. Quaxo had one paw around the shoulder of his mate, the normally quiet and subdued queen looking as angry as the rest of them. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer nodded in agreement. Admetus shrugged, turning away. Etcetera at least had the decency to looked shame faced. "Do you think it's big and clever?" Victoria hissed, her fury boiling over. ""Growing up to be another Tugger?" Admetus rounded on her, his hair standing up on his back. "Oh save it," he snarled. "We were all part of his little fan club. Just because you've gotten all haughty since Quaxo chose you doesn't change that. At least most of us are actual Jellicles," he sneered. Mungojerrie leapt for the arrogant teen before he could react. The teens tussled on the ground, claws slashing. Admetus yowled in pain. Rumpleteazer and Victoria grabbed hold of the tabby tomcat, pulling him off his victim. Bill Baily and Etcetera helped Admetus to his feet. "What the hell?" Admetus spat, blood lacing his spittle. "If you dare insult Victoria or any of us again, you'll think you just got off lucky," Mungojerrie stormed. "I didn't insult you," Admetus yelled back. "You implied that you were better than her, because you were born a Jellicle. If you say that about her, you're saying it about me, about Exotica, about any of us who weren't born into the tribe. And I will not have it." Munkustrap moved between the two cats. "Now look here you two..." he began, but Admetus cut him off. "Oh, go suck up to Macavity, you little sneak thief," he spat at Mungojerrie. It took Plato, Exotica and Tumblebrutus piling in, along with Electra and Sillabub hanging onto his legs, to stop Mungojerrie going for the smug tom, who laughed as he strutted away.

Mungojerrie fully expected to end up in front of Old Deuteronomy, but Munkustrap let the matter rest. "I was close to giving the scoundrel a good clawing myself," Rumpleteazer giggled as she held a cloth up to a deep cut above her mate's eye. "Bloody hell," the cat hissed as the disinfectant that Rumpleteazer had dabbed on the cloth smarted. "Now stop it," she snapped, suddenly resembling her mother. There was a rapping from the outside of the car as a cat banged on the side. "What is it," Rumpleteazer called out. A trio of feline heads poked into the interior. Victoria and Quaxo crept inside while Exotica stayed outside. "We just wanted to thank you," the dark Abyssinian purred. Victoria nodded vigorously. "Someone needed to take that jerk down a peg," Quaxo smiled. "Are you ok?" he asked in a concerned voice. "Yeah, fine," Mungo breathed, wincing in pain. Quaxo moved closer, examining the cut. He ran a thumb over the injury, healing it instantly. Mungojerrie blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you could do that," he exclaimed. Quaxo shrugged shyly, his mate planting a kiss on his cheek.

The young cats moved to the exterior of the car. Victoria playfully nuzzled Mungojerrie, thanking him for standing up for her. Mungo saw jealousy flash across Rumpleteazer's face before the white cat turned to leave. Quaxo bowed before taking his leave. This left just Exotica and the mates on the roof of the car. The two queens lay back, talking at great length about the ball. Exotica was delighted that Plato had consented to go with her, having asked the grey tom before he could ask her. Her older sister, Cassandra, was mated with Alonzo, while their half siblings Coricopat and Tamoline just kept to themselves. A loud meow startled all three of the teenage cats. Erik had gotten to the base of the car without any of them noticing the sleek black cat. "Come on up," Rumpleteazer invited. Erik scrambled up the side of the car. "Are you ok?" he asked Mungojerrie. "I heard what happened." "Oh yes, you weren't there," Exotica purred. Erik looked awkward. "I don't have a date," he admitted. The three other cats looked at one another, before bursting into squeals of laughter.

"You still don't have a date?" Rumpleteazer giggled. "So?" Erik scowled. "It's three days until the party," Exotica pointed out. "There is one queen left who you could ask," Rumpleteazer sniggered. "A queen who you have a definite crush on," Mungojerrie smiled slyly at his friend. "Just ask Jemima and have done with it," the tabby tom advised. "You of course being the tribe's foremost experts on relationships," Rumpleteazer laughed. "Well I won you over, didn't I?" the tom asked, affectionately kissing his mate on the nose.


	9. Another Dawn, Another Battle

"If we could turn down the soppiness for a moment," Exotica sighed. She dearly loved her friends, but being around them could be sickening at times. At least they tended to keep romantic gestures to when they were alone or with close friends. Going around with them if they were like this in public would just be embarrassing. "How about I ask her for you?" Rumpleteazer asked. "I hate to break this to you, but I don't think you're Jemima's type," Mungojerrie quipped. "Anyway, I thought you were going with me. And how does you asking Jemima to the dance help Erik here?" His mate cuffed him around the back of the head. "Ignore him Erik," Exotica mewed. Erik shrugged. "I'd like to ask her," he began. "Aha!" Mungojerrie exclaimed loudly. "So you do like her? J'accuse you of wilfully attempting to deceive us. How do you plea?" Erik shook his head in annoyance. "Ok, so I like her," he snapped. "Oh we know," Mungojerrie smiled slyly. "I said you tried to deceive us, not that you succeeded. You are not very good at hiding your feeling for the young queen, my dear Romeo."

Erik arched an eyebrow in confession. "You know?" he stammered. Rumpleteazer rolled her eyes. "Yes we know." "Does she?" Erik asked desperately, the usually taciturn and morose cat being moved to panic. "I don't know. It really depends on how blind she is to subtle thing like the way you look at her, the way you act, thunderstorms, the moon, things like that," Mungojerrie joked. Erik sank onto his haunches, his head in his paws. "I've made a fool out of myself," he whimpered. "Well … a little bit yes," Rumpleteazer offered. "You could have just asked her. Fortunately for you, queens love a tom that makes a fool out of himself for love and Jemima is just as blind to your affections as you are to hers." Erik's head shot up. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Oh come on Erik," Exotica waded in. "Do you see any other queens batting their eyelashes at random toms and going out of their way to sit near them?" Erik looked blank. "I think I see the problem," Mungojerrie declared. He smiled at Erik. "You don't want to be happy. You've spent all your life having to act like a father to Rusty and Syrie, and now you can't let yourself be young. Ask queens out, make a fool of yourself, make mistakes, have fun. It's what this age is about." The tabby thief stroked Rumpleteazer affectionately. "You and I both lost the chance to be normal kittens due to forces beyond our control. But we were both also lucky and have a chance to be young for a while. Don't miss that chance."

Plato was livid with his brother. "What the hell were you playing at!" he demanded. Admetus shrugged, a cocky smile on his face. "Just a bit of fun," he drawled. In that moment, the resemblance to Rum Tum Tugger was uncanny. "Oh, you think it's funny do you," Tumblebrutus snapped. Admetus stood up, towering over his smaller littermate. "Yes. Why, have you got something to say about it," he sneered. Plato stepped between the two, forcing Admetus to sit down. "Listen up," the more authoritative brother snarled. "You are going to take this seriously." "Why, so I don't mess up your date with Exotica?" his brother laughed. "Just shut up," Bill Bailey howled, the usually happy hearted prankster starting to lose his temper. "You are going to take this seriously, or I'll personally make sure that you aren't allowed to dance," Plato growled. Admetus's pale face went even whiter. Admetus loved dancing – after Quaxo and Victoria he was one of the best in the yard and he loved to show off. "You wouldn't dare..." he started, but Tumblebrutus cut him off. "We're working hard on this. The others are working hard on it. Everyone else is putting their heart and soul into this dance, and we're all going to become adults. Now straighten up, or you won't be joining us." With that Plato and the twins turned and left, leaving a dejected and shocked Admetus all alone.

Erik had joined the guard rota, taking his turn in guarding the tribe. He, Mungojerrie and Alonzo formed a three cat team that covered half of the perimeter. Munkustrap, Skimble and Tumblebrutus were forming the other for tonight, while the other toms rested. Suddenly a yell from the other side of the yard brought the guards running. Demeter lay on the ground, pointing quivering figure at the top of the tallest rubbish heap. A tall, ginger figure with matted fur and tangled hair stood there, glaring down at the cats. The toms swarmed up after the intruder, but upon reaching the top of the pile, Macavity wasn't there. A muffled scream attracted their attention as, on the ground, Exotica was dragged away, kicking and screaming. Plato didn't think, he just jumped. The grey cat, crashed to the ground heavily, coming up claws bared. Macavity had Exotica by the throat. "Let me go, or the queen gets it," he snarled. Macavity looked even worse than usual. His fur was ragged, his skin visible through missing clumps. Scaly lesions were visible around his eyes, nose and ears. Macavity squeezed, choking Exotica. "Stop right there," Munkustrap bellowed, tearing towards his older brother. Macavity dropped Exotica, turning his attention to Munkustrap. The two toms wrestled with each other, clawing and biting.

Macavity was steadily getting the upper hand over Munkustrap, the silver tabby exhausted by long nights on guard. Plato launched himself at Macavity as Exotica ran to get help, clinging onto the ginger cat's back. Macavity howled in pain, spinning around to dislodge the cat. Plato hung on for dear life, waiting for help to arrive. Macavity however slammed his back into the corner of an abandoned fridge, knocking Plato free before making good his escape.

Mungojerrie raced to intercept the mystery cat, just getting ahead of him. The tabby cat burst into a clearing, slamming into Macavity. The larger cat glared down at the winded thief. Mungojerrie saw a trio of ugly, half healed scars on Macavity's stomach where he had clawed him. Mungojerrie felt his body go into meltdown, the face that had haunted his nightmares causing his limbs to lock up with fear. "Are you scared?" Macavity sneered, planting a foot on Mungojerrie's throat. "No taunts, no jibs?" The cat laughed. "You should have stuck to petty larceny kit. It's all you're good for." "Burn in hell," the thief snarled, lashing out with his claws and causing Macavity to stumble. With that, Mungojerrie's vision dissolved into blackness.


	10. After the Fight

Mungojerrie drifted in and out of consciousness, he knew not for how long. He dimly perceived dark shapes surrounding him, which he tried to swat away as a kitten might a woollen string. His periods of sleep were filled with horrifying nightmares. He saw Rumpleteazer die hundreds of times at Macavity's hands, saw the Jellicles butchered just as many times – all the while unable to move or cry out.

Mungojerrie had no idea of the time when he awoke. Rumpleteazer was asleep at the foot of the bed he had been placed on. He tapped her gently, waking the pretty queen up. She took one look at her mate and flung her arms around him. "That is quite enough of that," she growled into his ear. "You've ended up here too much recently," she pouted. "What happened?" her mate asked. "Major panic attack, combined with oxygen deprivation," Jennyanydots fussed as she entered the room. "I mean … Macavity was there, and then I passed out. Why didn't he kill me?" "Erik and Plato chased him off," Rumpleteazer explained. "You have some true friends there," Jenny smiled. "Make sure you don't let them go." "How long was I out for?" Mungojerrie asked, shakily standing up. "Four days," Rumpleteazer replied. "Bloody hell," the tabby tom exclaimed.

Jennyanydots gave her son in law a concoction of her own creation to help him calm down. The gumbie cat was concerned about the tabby, particularly when her daughter revealed that the sleep medication she had been preparing had not been for Rumpleteazer, but had been for her mate. "How long have you been having nightmares and struggling to sleep?" she asked him kindly. He swallowed nervously. "Since the Jellicle Ball," he replied hoarsely. Jenny tutted. "You should have come to see me," she frowned. "Didn't want to be a bother," Mungojerrie smiled weakly. The gumbie cat scowled. "Well it was dammed foolish of you," she muttered. At that moment there was a knock on the door. Rumpleteazer opened it to reveal Erik and Jemima standing there.

The red and black cats slunk in, concern etched across their faces. "Are you ok?" Jemima asked, her eyes wide and scared. "Yes, I'm fine," her friend replied with a smile, standing up. Jemima jumped for joy, throwing her arms around Erik. The black cat looked startled, but made no effort to dislodge her. "How's Plato?" Mungojerrie asked as they left, Jemima holding onto Erik's paw in the manner of a prospector who has found the treasure of a life time. "He's good," Erik responded. "Munkustrap and Alonzo having been talking to him." At that moment the grey cat in question came tearing around the corner, skidding to a halt. A bright smile split his face.

"They want to train me," he exclaimed excitedly. Rumpleteazer and Erik looked blank, but Jemima and Mungojerrie joyfully congratulated their friend. "Um … who wants to train you to do what?" Erik asked. "Munkustrap and Alonzo," Plato exclaimed. "They want to train me as a protector." Rumpleteazer and Erik, now that they understood, were delighted for their friend. Plato had wanted to be a protector since he was a small kitten, and none of the friends could think of any cat better suited to the task. Even when they were kittens, Plato had been a natural born leader, organising the other kittens and concocting many of their childish schemes. When the other kittens had obsessed over Rum Tum Tugger, a phase only some of them had outgrown, Plato had idolised the protector Munkustrap.


	11. The Jellicle Dance

It was the day of Old Deuteronomy's Birthday. The teens and kittens had been rehearsing hard, finally nailing the dances the day before. Even Erik had gotten the hang of it, though not without much effort, strain and threats from Jemima. The little queen could be extremely bossy when she wanted to be. After he had chased off Macavity, Erik had been so high that he had asked Jemima to the dace before he realised what he was doing. Fortunately the queen had been delighted, having been trying to work up the courage to ask him herself. The pair now crouched just off of the performance area where some of the pairings were already dancing. Erik squeezed the nervous young queen's paw affectionately. "This is going to go fine," he whispered. She smiled. "I'm going to be the luckiest cat out there," she giggled. Erik kissed her lightly, silencing her. "Not quite. Not while I'm here," he whispered. "That's our cue," he said as the dancing cats moved to the side. Jemima grinned at him, before swooping out onto the dance floor.

All of the teen cats were now dancing. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer grinned broadly as Mungojerrie lifted his mate over his head, her landing behind him so that he could flip over her. Tumblebrutus and Electra made a strange pair, the reserved kitten evidently being led by the teen. Jemima had known that Tumblebrutus had had a thing for her sister since they were kittens. Plato and Exotica moved as if made for each other, as if they were meant to dance together. Erik spun Jemima, allowing her to come to a graceful halt facing their grandfather. Old Deuteronomy smiled happily at the sight. Bill Baily and Electra giggled like kittens as the danced together, while Admetus and Etcetera were being careful to be on their best behaviour. The centre of attention however was Quaxo and Victoria. The two cats seemed to flow like water, out dancing every other feline present. The older and younger cats, who weren't taking part at this point, clapped loudly as the dancers bowed to them.

Old Deuteronomy cleared his throat for silence, a silence enforced by Munkustrap holding up a paw. Once the cats had fallen silent, the leader began. "We are gathered here today to celebrate many things. The maturing of our children," he declared, focusing on the teens and kittens becoming adults and teens. "As well as the returning to us of those who had been lost for so long." Erik felt the elderly leader's eyes on him, as Syrie and Rusty cuddled up to him on one side and Jemima did the same on the other. "But we can never forget that we do not live completely free lives," Old Deuteronomy said. "We are threatened by those who would destroy us completely. Only by staying strong can we resist these attackers. There is no stronger bond than those between mates, something I hope you younglings will remember," he smiled. Exotica draped herself around Plato while Mungojerrie planted a kiss on Rumpleteazer's nose. "And with that, I believe that we can continue with the festivities," Old Deuteronomy finished, to a resounding cheer from the other cats.

Mungojerrie lounged at the edge of the performance clearing. His muscles ached from over exertion. Rumpleteazer alighted next to him. "Falling asleep?" she laughed, poking him in the stomach. "Get off," Mungojerrie muttered, his eyes closed. Rumpleteazer instead leapt onto him, sending the dozing cat flying. Laughter from nearby attracted the young cats collective attention. A tall, black and white tom was padding towards them, an elegant Abyssinian Queen on his arm. Cassandra laughed along with her mate as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer got up. "You're not dancing?" Rumpleteazer asked Cassandra. "Or…" "No, not at the moment Cassandra replied, shaking her head and patting her stomach. The pair's first litter was under development, causing much excitement amongst the kittens that were, as ever, eager for new play mates. "Have any of you seen Plato?" Alonzo asked the new adults. "Off with Exotica somewhere," Mungojerrie responded. "Why?" "We need to get him ready for his induction as a protector," Alonzo replied, gesturing to a trio of toms waiting by Old Deuteronomy. As well as Munkustrap and Alonzo, their brothers Victor and George also held positions as tribe protectors, as did Cassandra's brother Coricopat. Victor stalked over to his bi coloured older brother, a serious look on his face. "Any sign of him?" the cat asked. "He's off with Exotica," Alonzo responded. Victor swore under his breath. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Absolutely," the larger tom replied. "Me and Munkustrap agree, he's perfect protector material." "Well unless we can find him to get ready for the investiture, he's not going to be a protector," Victor muttered, turning away and heading back towards his companions.

Before he could reach his fellow protectors, he was swept up by a cream queen and dragged out onto the dance floor. "Now come on," he pretended to scowl, before splitting into a broad grin as he saw George being dragged onto the dance floor as well, by a smoky grey queen. "I missed this last time," he whispered to his partner. She entwined her tail with his. "I'm so sorry. Like I said, my family selfishly decided to take us on holiday to Scotland with them." "I know, I know," the protector whispered as the spun slowly. "I love you Mariana." His mate looked down at him, emerald eyes twinkling. George and Giulietta twirled next to them, locked in a lover's embrace. Nearby his nephew Augustus was dancing as well, his mate Bernadette in his strong arms.

Erik was enjoying dancing with Jemima, the little red kitten leading him through some of the more complex moves. "So you've really never danced?" she asked. "Never," Erik replied as they glided past Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots slow dancing. "You have to remember me, Syrie and Rusty didn't grow up in a tribe like this. We grew up on the street," Erik explained as they sat down for a rest. Most of the dancing pairs had now broken up as the cats took a rest before the big group number. Eventually the remaining couples left the dance floor, but before the final performance took place Old Deuteronomy rose. All the cats respectfully silenced themselves. "Before we conclude the festivities, I have two or more words to say," the leader began. "As we know, it is only by the tireless efforts of our protectors that we are able to live in the safety and tranquillity that we all treasure. With that in mind, I would like to request that we put our paws together for our protectors and remember all they do and sacrifice for us." As the cats clapped and cheered, the five protectors emerged from the shadows behind Old Deuteronomy where they had been waiting. Munkustrap, Alonzo, George, Victor and Coricopat all stood to attention, smartly saluting Old Deuteronomy. "On that note, I believe that you have a tom you wish to induct into your brotherhood of comrades in arms?" Old Deuteronomy asked. At a command from Munkustrap, Plato emerged from the same alcove that the others had been concealed in. "Do you take this oath of your own free will?" Old Deuteronomy intoned. "I do," Plato replied, standing to attention. Munkustrap continued with the oath all Protectors had to swear. "Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that Bast may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong – this is your oath. Do you so swear?" "I swear," Plato replied, kneeling before the commander of the protectors. "Then I hereby induct you into the most honourable order of the Jellicle Protectors," Munkustrap finished, laying his paws on Plato's bowed head. The other protectors all moved closer, laying their paws on their new brother. "Arise a Protector," they declared. Plato rose slowly to his feet. The assembled cats burst into cheers as Plato's immediate family gathered around him.

_**More names. Like Erik and his siblings, these are from Andrew Lloyd Webber Musicals. Mariana is from "The Woman in White," Bernadette is from "The Beautiful Game," and Giulietta is one of the female leads from "Seasons of Love."**_

_**On a separate note, what do you think of my idea of having the Protectors being more than just Munkustrap and Alonzo patrolling, and more like a military?**_


	12. After the Dance

Several days after the dance, security was finally relaxed around the junkyard. Patrols were lessened, and the toms could finally relax a little. Mungojerrie dozed lazily on top of the rusted car. The sun felt good on his fur. Jenny and Jellyorum had ordered him to take life easy for a little while, to try and combat his stress disorder. The tabby tom stretched out, his sore muscles protesting slightly as he stretched them. There was a giggle from ground level. His eye opened a crack. There appeared to be a pair of small furballs on the ground, looking up at him. It was Rusty and Syrie, Erik's siblings. The calico queen leapt up, sitting on the tabby's chest, followed by her brother. Mungojerrie winced. "Where's Erik?" Rusty demanded. "How should I know?" Mungojerrie moaned. Rusty stamped his paws, winding the bigger cat. "Where's Erik?" the kitten asked again.

Mungojerrie tipped the kittens off of his stomach, sending them crashing to the ground. Rusty was up in a second, a scowl on his face. "Where is he?" the diminutive kitten demanded again. "I haven't a clue," Mungojerrie sighed, accepting he wasn't to be allowed to sleep. Rusty pouted. "Where did you last see him?" Syrie asked, her clear little voice seeming to tremble in the air. Mungojerrie cast his mind back. "Try Munkustrap's den," the thief finally offered. "Why would he be there?" Rusty asked in confusion. "Visiting his queenfriend," Syrie giggled. Her brother looked at her questioningly. "Oh never mind," the kitten sighed. "Thanks Jerrie," she squeaked as they raced off in the direction of the protector's den.

Mungojerrie stretched his legs before wandering off into the junkyard. Rumpleteazer was spending the day with her mother, checking up on Cassandra. In the midst of the garbage, Mungojerrie came upon Erik and Jemima. The pair were sitting on the ground, evidently deep in conversation. Mungojerrie froze. A quick sniff of the air told him he was downwind of them. His whiskers twitched as he smiled, concealing himself swiftly under the rubbish. He crept closer until he could hear them.

"I still not sure about this," Erik exclaimed. Jemima frowned at him. "Why not?" she demanded. "I've been in the tribe less than six months," Erik pointed out. "Do you really think that your father is going to approve of me…" "He loves you," Jemima said. Erik shrugged. "But he adores you. I suspect any love he has towards me will evaporate and turn into fatherly dislike in a second if we…" "I'm telling you, he likes you," Jemima stubbornly insisted. "What about your mother?" Erik asked. Jemima shrugged. "My mum likes you even more," she smiled. Erik furrowed his brow. Jemima stroked his arm delicately. "It's not as if I'm suggesting that we become mates or anything. I'm only asking you out on a date. You've already danced with me at the ball." "I know. But I'm still not sure," Erik argued. "Dancing at the ball together doesn't mean that you're in love. Look at Admetus and Etcetera. They were just together because there was no one else." Jemima scowled. "Are you saying you only danced with me because I was all that was left?" she demanded angrily. Erik swallowed nervously, backtracking quickly. "Of course not. How could you say that?" he whispered, placating her. "I love you Jemima. I'm just a little concerned as to your father's reaction if I ask his permission to take you out. It's not like we're already an official couple." Jemima perked up. "Why do you have to ask him?" she asked. "I'm not a little kitten anymore. I can be trusted to go out on my own." Erik considered this. "It just seems … respectful. Right somehow."

Mungojerrie had to contain a burst of laughter as he crept away. So Jemima and Erik were an item now? Mungojerrie still didn't understand the black tom. Sometimes he seemed like any other tom, maybe a bit mature for his age, but still normal. But every now and then another side of him shone through, a side that was paranoid, introverted and defensive. Mungojerrie supposed that it was understandable, with what he'd been through. Rusty and Syrie seemed to have adapted to Jellicle life much easier, possibly because they hadn't been forced to fight and kill like Erik.

That night, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer crept back to their human's house. The family were asleep, their snores rocking the house to its foundations. The pair let themselves in through the roof, which had long ago ceased to be waterproof. The thieves grinned to each other as they settled down on the pile of pillows and cushions that served as their bed. Rumpleteazer was gushing about how fun it had been working with her mother. "Be careful or you'll end up like her," Mungojerrie smiled. Rumpleteazer thought hard about this. "Would … Would that be so bad?" she asked. Mungojerrie frowned. "Well no, but … do you want to settle down?" he asked. Rumpleteazer shrugged. "We can't be thieves all our lives. We have to stop eventually," She pointed out. "All I've ever been is a thief, Teazer," her mate mewed. Rumpleteazer nodded in appreciation of this. Mungojerrie had been stealing for as long as he could remember, whereas she had, in the words of her parents, 'been a perfectly nice kit until she fell in with that young scoundrel.'

"So if you want to settle down … would that mean …" Mungojerrie asked tentatively. Rumpleteazer shrugged. "I don't know," was all she said. "Maybe." Mungojerrie blinked. "Really?" he asked. Rumpleteazer had always been opposed to having kits, it being one of the few matters on which the pair disagreed, alongside the age of Old Deuteronomy and whether Cricket or Rugby was the better sport. "Maybe one day," she smiled. Mungojerrie's face split into a grin as he entwined his tail with hers. "I love you," he whispered as they drifted off to sleep.

The thieves spent the next day around the house, making sure they were seen. You had to be careful with humans. If you didn't come home often enough, they assume you'd run away. Rumpleteazer had curled up in the mistress of the house's lap, playing with a ball of wool. Mungojerrie was purring contentedly on the sofa. They had wool, toys, scratches behind the ears and all the milk they could want. Despite this Mungojerrie chaffed at the confinement. He really only lived with the family for one reason, and that was Rumpleteazer. Teazer was already living with the family when he met her and ingratiating himself with them had involved infiltrating a pet store and Rumple subtly convincing the family to get another cat. Fortunately the youngest son had fallen for him upon seeing how much he looked like Rumpleteazer.

The master of the house sat down heavily next to Mungojerrie, idly stroking his head. Mungojerrie shifted slightly, half tempted to jump down and wander off. Only a look from Rumpleteazer stopped him. In many ways he had been extremely successful in converting her to a life of crime, but at the end of the day Rumpleteazer still like a bowl of milk whenever she wanted one and a warm kitchen to raid whenever she felt like it. Her mate saw humans not a source of shelter, but as a source of interesting things and entertaining prospects. Macavity stole because he was greedy, and a borderline psychopath. Mungojerrie had always taken a five fingered discount for the fun of it, or because the owners deserved it, or even if they didn't appreciate what they had. This was the case with Rumple's pearls – it had taken the daughter he had swiped them from over a month to realise they were missing. When you don't realise that a string of Woolworth's Pearls were missing for over a month, it was your own fault if they went missing, in Mungojerrie's opinion.


	13. Back in the Yard

Mungojerrie snuck back to the junkyard that night. He could only take so much time in the house before feeling the need to get out. The tabby tom passed Plato at the entrance. "How's being a protector then?" he asked the grey tabby. "Brilliant," came the reply. Plato, usually so serious, grinned broadly at Jerrie. "Have you heard the other news?" he asked excitedly. "What?" "I asked Exotica and she said yes!" exclaimed the young protector. "You mean … you two are mates?" Mungojerrie asked, not quite believing his ears. "That's right," Plato delightedly confirmed. Mungo clapped his friend on the shoulders. "Good luck. Whatever you do, look after her," he said seriously, before breaking into a grin. "Congratulations," he called as he hurried into the yard.

Mungojerrie boggled at the concept. Plato and Exotica mating? Plato had had a thing for Exotica for ages, but Mungo had no idea that the secretive, mysterious queen felt the same way. It occurred to him that they were all growing up. He, Plato, Quaxo, Rumpleteazer, Exotica and Victoria were all mated. Tumblebrutus was courting Electra. If his intuition was any good, Erik and Jemima would be officially getting together before too long. That left just Admetus and Bill Baily, the former of which was quite happy to follow in his uncle's footsteps as an obnoxious queeniser. Maybe it was time for him and Teazer to properly settle down, start a family, curl up by the fire in the evenings and chase mice around the house. Or even move out the junkyard permanently. He looked around the yard. The rusted cars, mountains of rubbish, hidden dens, old tractor tire and dancing space felt more like home to him than the house ever had. He felt the cool night wind through his fur and looked up at the moon, low in the sky.

He felt a presence behind him. "Beautiful isn't it," a crystal voice remarked. Jemima paced up to him, sitting by his side. "What's up?" he asked the little queen. "Erik's being murdered by my father," she remarked matter of factly. She smiled at her friend. "He's boring poor Erik to death." "So Erik asked him if he could take you out?" Mungo asked her. "Yeah" the happy teen giggled. "Sillabub is so jealous." "You and me both know that Sillabub is more kitten than queen," the tom quipped, causing them both to laugh. "How did you know that Rumpleteazer was the one for you?" she asked. "Did you fall in love at first sight and that was why you heroically rescued her?" "I don't believe in love at first sight," the tabby cat answered. "I stood up for her because it was the right thing to do. I knew that I loved her when we were just friends and she said her family was going on holiday, and I wanted to beg her not to go because I'd miss her so." He turned to his young friend. "That's what love feel like, as close as I can tell. When you feel like every moment not spent with someone is a moment wasted, when any day without them isn't worth living. Is that how you feel about Erik?" he asked. Jemima thought, looking up at the moon she so adored. "I feel like we were meant to be together. Like when he's away there's a part of me missing. When he hurts, I hurt. When he's happy, I'm happy. Is that what you mean?" "Yes," Mungojerrie replied, stretching out on the ground.

"Look after him Jemima. Erik's damaged on the inside, and I think you're the only person who makes him feel fixed again." Jemima sniffed. "Why would someone do something like that to him?" she asked. "He told you?" Mungojerrie queried, surprised. "He told me about Macavity and the fighting," Jemima confirmed. "It sounds horrible." "Macavity's a horrible cat," was her friend's only response. "Do you think he'll ever stop?" Jemima whispered, looking around fearfully. "I think that your father is too noble to kill him, and Macavity is too evil to stop. Our best hope is that the Pollicle's get their paws on him and make it really slow," Mungojerrie growled. Jemima looked shocked. "You'd want to see him dead," she gasped. "It's the only way to stop him," Mungo replied. "He's already catnapped your mother and Old Deuteronomy once, he tried to get her a second time along with Victoria, Exotica and… and…" Suddenly Mungojerrie sat bolt upright. A connection he had for so long missed stood out in his brain. A memory he had long buried screamed for attention. Rows of cages, with all the cats that Macavity had taken locked inside. Mungojerrie himself letting them go, disgusted at Macavity's actions. Suddenly one thing all the captured cats had in common became clear. "They're all foreign," Mungojerrie muttered. "What?" Jemima asked, concerned for her friend. "He only catnaps foreign cats," Mungojerrie muttered again, too low for her to hear. Suddenly Mungojerrie spun around, racing to find Munkustrap or any of the protectors.

Mungojerrie burst into Munkustrap's den, starling the occupants. "What's going on?" Demeter demanded. "I know what Macavity's after!" Mungojerrie exclaimed. Munkustrap and Erik looked at him quizzically as Jemima tore through the open doorway behind him. "What are you talking about?" Munkustrap demanded. "I know why Macavity's been attacking us," Mungojerrie excitedly announced. "He's a criminal lunatic who hates us," Munkustrap pointed out. "What other reason does he need?" "Foreigners," was all Mungojerrie said. Everyone gave him a blank look. "Erik, when you escaped from Macavity you freed the other cats being held, didn't you?" Mungojerrie continued, deciding that they need more evidence. "Of course," Erik muttered. "Did you notice anything about the cats?" Mungojerrie asked. Erik thought. "Well … we were kept in two areas. There was a smaller bit where the other fighters, a couple of his enemies and I were caged up. That's where he put Rusty and Syrie to." "And the other area?" Mungojerrie asked. "Much larger. Loads of caged, stacked one on top of the other. The cats were even worse off and I never saw any of them in the ring." "That's what it was like when I was there," Mungojerrie agreed. "But all the cats in that larger bit. Did you notice what they all had in common?" Erik's eyes went wide as realisation dawned. "They were all foreign breeds," the black cat gasped. "He's been targeting cats whose breeds aren't from Britain," Mungojerrie explained. "He's tried to take Old Deuteronomy, Demeter, Victoria and Exotica from us so far," the tabby pointed out. "Old Deuteronomy and Demeter aside, they're all foreign breeds. Exotica's Abyssinian, Victoria's a Turkish Angora. Almost all of the cats I saw weren't British." "Victoria and Exotica are British," Jemima exclaimed. "They are, but the breed's aren't" Mungojerrie explained. Munkustrap nodded, understanding what the young cat was saying. "We know that Macavity associates with Griddlebone. Maybe he's taken up her old lover's crusade against foreigners." "But then why did he go after me and Old Deuteronomy?" Demeter asked, twitching from the memory. "Oh don't misunderstand me, he hates us and Munkustrap particularly. He'd do anything if he thought it would hurt Munkustrap. But as a more general rule, he's targeting foreign breeds." At that moment a scream pierced the night from outside.


	14. Cat Morgan

The cats raced outside. The noise was coming from out of sight. "That's Syrie," Erik exclaimed, running after Munkustrap. The cats skidded around pile of junk, eventually reaching the terrified kit. "He's out there, he's after me," she wailed. "Who's out there?" Erik asked, standing over her. "The tall ginger cat," she whimpered. "Macavity," Mungojerrie snarled. The toms formed up around Demeter and Syrie, back to back so they could not be snuck up on. Munkustrap whistled the high pitched alarm. The first cat to reach them was Skimbleshanks. "What's going on," He asked, covering Munkustrap's exposed flank. "Syrie says she saw a ginger cat out there," the protector muttered. Skimble sniffed the air. "I can't smell Macavity," he frowned. Mungojerrie sniffed the air. The smell of salt water, rum and African spices was carried on the wind. "It's not him," Mungojerrie muttered. Skimble suddenly smiled broadly. "Morgan. Morgan is that you?" he called out. "ello brother," came the reply in a thick Estuary Accent as the speaker emerged into the moonlight.

Cat Morgan had been a pirate in his younger days, though now he lived in "Faber and Faber," Publishing house, in Bloomsbury, where he worked as a doorman of sorts. Where Skimble was fatherly, responsible, polite and smart his brother was more of a rebel. A scar on his face told of a run in with the royal navy in the Mediterranean, while his left ear had a slice taken out of it by another water cat off the Barbary Coast. His ginger coat however was well cleaned and cared for and overall the appearance was one of roguish smartness. All in all he was not an unpleasant looking tom, and as he put it "some of the gals is dead keen on old Morgan." His mate was a slightly younger queen named Honoria that he had met in Africa. Though they once had been, Morgan and Honoria were no longer really considered part of the Jellicle Tribe. Despite this he sometimes attended the balls and his weather beaten face and old tricorn hat were a welcome sight when they chose to show themselves.

Munkustrap and Skimble move forward to greet the long absent tom, who dropped the sack he was carrying and shook their paws vigorously. "Sorry I couldn't make it ter the ball," he exclaimed, clapping his brother on the shoulders. "Yer know 'ow it is. They 'ad some posh party on that night 'nd needed me on the door." "Of course," Skimble laughed, hugging his brother tightly. "And 'oose this?" Morgan asked, approaching Erik. The black cat growled menacingly. Morgan stopped in his tracks. "Not friendly I take it?" he asked Skimble. "Morgan's a friend Erik," the ginger tabby exclaimed. Erik's fur relaxed. "Delighted to meet you," he said, though still shielding Syrie with his body.

The Calico kitten stuck her head out from around her big brother. "You smell funny," she declared. Morgan shrugged. A life on piracy on the high seas had left him with a fondness for rum and certain exotic spices. Combined with the scent of salt water that was ingrained into him, he had a peculiar smell. He smiled at the kitten. "Yes I do, don't I?" he replied, crouching down to look her in the face. "And oo' are you?" he asked. "I'm Syrie," the little kit declared happily.

Mungojerrie padded back into the centre of the yard with the others. The kittens came bounding out of their dens, eager to greet "Uncle Morgan." The water cat was almost as popular among the younger cats as Rum Tum Tugger, because of his roguish lifestyle and fantastical stories. The pirate swept Etcetera off her feet, spinning the fluff ball around. "Great ter see you lot again mateys," he proclaimed as the trio of kittens familiar with him pushed him over, enveloping the cat in kitteny warmth. Munkustrap stooped down, retrieving the ginger tom from the pile of cats.

"Thanks mate," Morgan laughed as he brushed himself down. Jennyanydots emerged from her den excitedly, throwing her arms around her brother in law. "You're back," she simpered. "Skimble and I have been so worried." She frowned up at the larger cat. "Never do that to us again," she scowled. Morgan grinned crookedly back at her. "Come on darlin'. Yer can't stay mad at old Morgan," Skimble's younger brother grinned. She batted him on the nose.

"I've brought yer some gifts," Morgan declared, opening the bag he was carrying. The first things out were some toys for the kittens, stuffed mice and the like. Then came the food. As well as a couple of bottles of scotch, which he handed to his delighted brother, and a bottle of brandy which went to the equally pleased Old Deuteronomy, he had potted grouse, a couple of braces of partridges and a huge tub of Devonshire cream, along with a cold salmon. "Where did you get this stuff?" Jellyorum asked. "I know a tom what works in the market," Morgan explained. "He's a dap 'and at procuring certain items for me." Skimble examined the whisky. "This is expensive stuff," he mused. "What are you up to?" Morgan shifted. "We want back in," he finally exclaimed. "What?" Bombalurina asked in surprise. "Me and 'onoria miss being part of the tribe. 'aving somewhere to come when yer want to g't away from yor 'umans. The feelin' of 'aving uver toms backing you up. 'aving a proper family. I ffought that maybe if I brought some goods to smooth stuff over, yer might be more inclined to let us back in." Old Deuteronomy laughed. "Of course you're welcome Morgan," he boomed, his laughter echoing around the junkyard. "We've missed having you around. Your old den is still unoccupied if you want it back, or there are some other if you fancy." Morgan looked around at them, taking his hat off and wiping his forehead. "Yor serious, are yer?" the ex-pirate asked. "Just like that?" Skimble but his arm around his brother's shoulders as the kittens cuddled up to their uncle. "Welcome home brother," the railway cat said.

_**Just as a note, this character is not original. Cat Morgan is the titular character of "Cat Morgan Introduces Himself," a poem from "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats," the anthology which CATS is based on. That the poem and character don't appear in the show has always seemed strange to me, so I have corrected the problem here. Sorry about the accent, but that's how the poem is written. Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it better. I was going for a sort of Estuary/ Cockney feel, as that is the voice he has in the poem. The name Honoria is taken from "By Jeeves," another Andrew Lloyd Webber show.**_


	15. Honoria

The following week Morgan and Honoria moved back into the junkyard. Honoria was a middle-aged adult, like her mate, and where he had rugged handsomeness, she had shocking beauty. She had wide eyes, perfect physique, sleek golden fur that rippled like sun beams and bright blue eyes. She looked like a golden statue with sapphire eyes brought to life.

After dropping off a sack full of odds and ends, Mungojerrie emerged from their new den to find Morgan and Honoria chatting with Cassandra and Alonzo. The newcomers were older, but Alonzo had always gotten on with the piratical rouge. "Some time later this month," Mungojerrie heard Cassandra say as he passed by, lifting up the last sack. Morgan had one paw around the narrow waist of his mate, while the other clutched the brim of his tricorn. Also talking with Morgan and Honoria was Bustopher Jones. Bustopher didn't keep in touch with his father as much as Old Deuteronomy would have liked, but he did maintain a den in the junkyard and visited occasionally, along with attending all the balls.

Several days later Rumpleteazer was helping her mother as she examined Cassandra. The Abyssinian queen was due to give birth in a little over a week. Her mate had accompanied her for the check up, but right now Alonzo was talking in a low voice to Mungojerrie. "If I'm right, then they're in danger," he said. Alonzo frowned. "It still seems impossible to believe. That Macavity would really be targeting foreign breeds. He was raised alongside them. Why would he have turned against them so?" "I don't know, but it is a pattern in his attacks." The silver tabby looked at the smaller tom. Finally he nodded. "Alright. We'll make it a priority." With that Alonzo lopped over to Cassandra. Rumpleteazer joined Mungojerrie as he left. "Aren't they adorable!" she exclaimed as Alonzo embraced Cassandra. "Yes, yes," her mate replied, distracted. Rumpleteazer frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked. Mungojerrie turned, facing her. "Just thinking. I'm alright," he said, pawing at her affectionately. "Come on, I want to have a word with Morgan," the ginger and black tabby said, leaping off in the direction of the water cat's den. "What's this about?" Rumpleteazer asked as she ran to keep up. "Do you remember the story of Growltiger?" her mate asked. "Of course," the pretty little tigress laughed. "Gus only tells it to us twice a week." "Well then you know that not all the crew went down with the ship," Mungojerrie continued. "Griddlebone fell overboard and wound up with Macavity," Rumpleteazer confirmed. "Do you remember anyone else?" Mungojerrie pressed. Rumple thought. "The first mate!" she finally declared. "Exactly. The first mate and boson weren't on board. Now the bosun died soon after in a bar fight, but I don't know what happened to first mate. I'm hoping Morgan might know." "But why are you so interested in an old pirate who might be dead by now?" Rumple insisted. "Macavity's attacking foreign cats. Only one other cat in London used that MO, and he has two living associates. Since one is with Macavity, I'm hoping the other might be able to tell us something."


	16. The Fellowship Assembles

Morgan looked at the tabby thieves in confusion. "Growltiger's first mate? O'course I know 'im. Bloody 'orrible temper, a real daemon wiv the lash." Mungojerrie massaged his temples, Morgan's accent and rambling ways getting on his nerves. "Do you know where he is?" the cat demanded. "O'course. He lives near the river, by the Bell Inn, doesn't he. I wouldn't want ter risk me skin against 'im though. Bloody 'orrible temper." "Yes, you've said that," Rumpleteazer cut in. "If we had to see him though. Any advice for us?" "Brin' alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. It's the only way ter get 'im close ter resemblin' a good mood." "Thank you for your help," Mungojerrie said, bowing low. Rumpleteazer did a strange little four leg curtsy as the thieves retreated rapidly form the pirate cat.

Erik and Jemima were waiting for the pair outside. "What's going on?" the tortoiseshell queen demanded. "Nothing," Mungojerrie replied. Erik moved to block his exit. "What is it Mungo?" he asked. "Something private," Rumpleteazer insisted. Jemima joined her partner in backing the cats into a corner. "Just tell us," she smiled, but the grin did not reach her wide eyes. "We've been looking into Growltiger's old crew" Mungojerrie exclaimed in exasperation. Rumpleteazer elbowed him in the ribs while Erik and Jemima gasped. "Tell me you're joking," Erik growled. "Macavity's going after foreign cats like Growltiger, and the only other link is Griddlebone." "You're not going to talk to Griddlebone," Jemima gasped again. "Don't be stupid," Rumpleteazer sighed. "I thought all Growltiger's crew were killed by Gilbert and Genghis's hoard?" Erik pointed out. "The first mate and bosun weren't aboard," Mungojerrie explained. "Tumblebrutus died soon after in a bar fight…" "What!" Eric yowled. "Tumblebrutus? As in one of the twins? The acrobat? Electra's Tomfriend?" "Same cat, different life," Rumpleteazer explained. "Cassandra was a pharaoh's cat in a previous life, Quaxo was the Pied Piper's assistant. Tumblebrutus was a pirate." Eric frowned. "Wow. Talk about a change of lifestyle." Jemima shook her head, giggling. "What you did in your previous life has no affect in how you live your life now. Only a mystical cat can even tell you who you were. Weren't you taught this?" she asked. "Taught by who?" Erik retorted. "My Bombay father who left before I was born? The mother who could barely look after me and died just after Rust and Syrie were born? Macavity? Other Fighters?" "Sorry," Jemima said, realising how inconsiderate the comment had been. She nuzzled against Erik by way of apology.

"So if … Tumblebrutus … died soon after," Erik continued, struggling with the idea that his friend had been a pirate bosun in a previous life. "Who is there let to talk to?" "Grumbuskin, the first mate," Rumpleteazer replied. "He wasn't on board when the Siamese brothers stormed the ship, so wasn't killed." Jemima eagerly bounced up and down. "Where is he now?" she asked. "Living near the Bell in Hampton, apparently," Rumpleteazer replied. "Now we must be going," her mate insisted. "Not on your own," Erik coolly responded. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer froze in perfect synchronisation. "Not a chance," they said together, turning on their friend. "We're going to grab a bottle of brandy and go see him. What part of that plan could involve you?" Mungojerrie asked. "I want in," Erik insisted. "Why?" Mungojerrie demanded. "You're not the only one with an axe to grind against Macavity," Erik yelled, drawing reproachful looks from passing cats. "Keep your voice down idiot," Rumpleteazer hissed. "I'm coming with you," Erik insisted. "I'll follow you if I have to." Mungojerrie looked to Rumpleteazer. "What do you think," he asked. Rumpleteazer cocked her head, thinking hard. "Fine then," she hissed. "On your own head be it."

"I'm coming to," Jemima piped up. "No," Erik flatly replied. "Who gave you a say?" Jemima demanded. "If you're going, so am I." "Absolutely not," Erik responded. "Since when do I have to do what you want me to?" Jemima asked. Erik looked at her. "Please don't come. It could be dangerous." "Yet you're going. I'm not a china cat Erik, you can't keep me wrapped up in cotton wool!" Jemima declared. "Why don't you want me around? Afraid I'll get in the way?" she demanded. Erik looked hurt. "I just want to protect you," he muttered. "Maybe I don't need your protection," she exclaimed. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer looked at each other, sidling away while the cats were arguing. Something told them they were intruding on an important moment.

"Do you know what it would do to me if you got hurt?" Erik asked Jemima. She scowled at him, not answering. "You are the most important thing in my life," Erik said. "My world would come crumbling down if you were killed. I can't let you be put in that sort of danger." "I can look after myself," she said softly. "I'm used to looking after who I love, doing anything to keep them safe," Erik explained. "I grew up having to look over my shoulder all the time, making sure that Rusty and Syrie weren't going to be murdered while I wasn't looking." There were a pair of tears running down his face. "I'm sorry if I was too strong. Of course you must make up your mind. But I only objected because I care for you." Jemima smiled at him, wiping away his tears. "Why do you think want to come? I couldn't bear being here while you were out there in danger, not knowing what was happening." She took his paw in hers. "We go together. Either live forever side by side, or go to the Heaviside Lair together." Erik smiled at her. "I love you," he said. "Always."

The four friends trotted towards the entrance to the yard. It was Plato on guard, with Exotica by his side. "Where are you going?" he asked of the friends. "Double date?" Jemima offered hopefully. Plato laughed, not believing his friend for a moment. "Ok, really where?" he asked. Mungojerrie decided that honesty would probably serve them best. "We're going to see a drunken pirate who used to be Growltiger's first mate, in the hope that he could tell us why Macavity is targeting foreign breeds." Plato and Exotica goggled at their friends. "You're kidding," Exotica breathed. Rumpleteazer shook her head. "Are you mad?" Plato hissed. "Grumbuskin was Growltiger's cruel right paw," Exotica muttered. Plato whispered something in his mate's ear. She nodded to him. "Where is he?" the grey protector asked. "Morgan says that he lives near the Bell Inn in Hampton," Mungojerrie replied. "Alright," Plato considered. "Wait here." With that he bounded down from his post, returning soon afterwards. "I got George to cover my shift. Let's go," he said, trotting out of the gate. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer looked at their friends as Exotica, Jemima and Erik followed the protector. "I hope they know what they're getting themselves into," Rumpleteazer muttered to her mate as they followed.


	17. The Off Licence Job

The six cats moved slowly through the streets of London. Exotica saw passers by shooting them wary glances, evidently taking them for a group of strays. Plato looked over at Erik. The shadowy cat was evidently in his element. It suddenly struck Plato that he didn't know how long Erik had been on the streets. He wasn't entirely sure that Erik knew himself. It was clear that the teen had been forced to grow up quickly, caring for his younger siblings like a parent. Syrie and Rusty didn't view Erik as a brother – they didn't play with him, or play pranks like the other kittens. They treated him with a love and respect usually reserved for ones parents.

"Where are we?" Jemima asked. Mungojerrie looked up at a street sign. They had been walking for hours, and it was staring to get dark. "Church Street," he declared. "We're nearly there." They continued walking, wary of some of the shadows starting to reveal themselves, but they kept to the lit areas and hurried along. Suddenly Rumpleteazer held up a paw, gesturing to their left. A small shop stood there in the gloom. The words "Off Licence," were emblazoned on one window. "Stay here," Mungojerrie instructed their companions, before the tabby thieves slipped away.

There was a small window that had been left ajar. Far too small for any human, but like a wide open door to the cats. They slid inside, falling lightly to the ground, rolling to absorb the impact. Both cats' ears pricked up at the deep, regular sound emanating through the shop. A dog's low breathing. Mungojerrie could see the heavy set shape of the canine guard in the gloom. He and Rumpleteazer leapt up onto a counter, picking their way carefully across it.

The alcohol was securely locked away. Mungojerrie tugged on the cabinet front, but it would not budge. He beckoned to Rumpleteazer who passed him a long, bent piece of metal from her sack. Mungojerrie jammed the lock pick into the padlock securing the cabinet and gave it a jiggle. It took several minutes, but eventually he got it open. The tabby thief swiped a bottle of brandy from the lowest shelf, before going to close the door. Unfortunately a bottle of scotch on the top shelf had been dislodged and tumbled down towards the thief. Seeing the danger, Rumpleteazer tackled her mate out of the way of the projectile. The heavy glass vessel instead shattered on the floor of the shop. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer held their breath as a snuffling sound emanated from the direction of their escape. The guard dog was awake.

The dog sniffed at the broken bottle, before snarling. "Who's there," he growled. "I can smell you, cat." Mungojerrie silently handed the booty to Rumpleteazer, who stowed it in her sack. _"I'll distract him,"_ the tom signed, indicating that Rumpleteazer should leave. The thieves had developed a complex sign language for just such situation, along with allowing them to communicate in secret without the other Jellicles understanding. Rumpleteazer shook her head. _"We stay together,"_ she signed. _"It's too dangerous,"_ her mate replied silently. _"I don't care. I'm not leaving you."_ _"Go!" _With that Mungojerrie gave a cough and emerged from hiding before Rumpleteazer could stop him. "Is something wrong officer," he smiled, mocking the dog. The guard growled deeply as Rumpleteazer snuck through the shadows, making a break for the window. "I would love to stay, I really would," Mungojerrie quipped, seeing his mate scramble through the window. "But I have a pressing engagement." "Dead or alive, you're coming with me punk," his captor growled. "I think not," Mungojerrie smiled, making a break for it. The cat leapt form cabinet top to cabinet top and his pursuer gave case. A small, stone statue on a table top was knocked by the passing cat, crashing to the ground on top of the dog, who gave a yelp as he was knock out. Mungojerrie hopped down, approaching the canine warily. He quickly checked the dog over. He was out cold, but there were no broken bones.

The tabby cat slipped out of the open window, to be engulfed by Rumpleteazer. "You're ok," she breathed as their friends gathered around the thieves. "Don't you ever do that to me again," Rumpleteazer pouted. Mungojerrie responded by kissing her on the nose, causing her to giggle. "Did you get it?" Plato asked, helping his friend to his feet. Mungo and Rumple nodded in unison, gesturing towards the sack with the loot in. "Right then," Erik stated. "Let's find a pirate."


	18. Grumbuskin

The alley behind the Bell was dingy and dank, with fetid water pooling in the ground. Ragged cats prowled through the darkness, surveying the Jellicles with predatory eyes. Rubbish littered the street, around which the cats had to slink. Broken glass littered the ground. "What're you doin' 'ere?" an ugly tom with a missing ear asked. Mungojerrie stared at him, dominating the larger cat with his cold eyes. "Me and my friends are looking for a tom named Grumbuskin," the thief said calmly. "Do you know where I can find him?" The cat sneered. "In there," he gestured, pointing to a hole in the back of the building with a crooked claw. "Thank you," Mungojerrie smiled, before turning to his friends. "Stay together and let me do the talking."

The friends stuck close together as they entered the large den. In the dimly lit space, villainous cats strolled to and fro. There was a plank supported on a pair of barrels, behind which ran pipes from the beer supplies above, which the cats had tapped. The friends looked around. Villains eyed up Jemima, Rumpleteazer and Exotica, clearly liking what they saw, but the combined bulk of Plato and Erik meant they swiftly moved on. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer approached the bar. "What'll it be?" the bartender, a grimy brown tom with halitosis and three missing teeth. "Information," Mungojerrie smiled. "Information's extra," the bartender snarled. Rumpleteazer reached into the sack, drawing out half a fish. "What do you want to know?" the bartender smiled. "We're looking for Grumbuskin," Mungojerrie said. The bartender pointed towards a booth shrouded in darkness. "Thank you," Mungojerrie smiled, turning to leave as Rumpleteazer tossed their informant the fish. Erik motioned him over. "I don't like this Mungo. There are too many cats here, and they don't exactly look like the nicest bunch." Plato nodded in agreement. Mungojerrie spotted an empty booth. "Go sit over there. You can stop yourself from being surrounded and it has an excellent view of the bar." Erik nodded. "I never thought I'd be back in somewhere like this," he muttered. "Neither did I," Mungojerrie responded.

Even with their feline vision, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer could not penetrate the darkness that engulfed Grumbuskin's booth. "Who're you?" a low, gravelly voice spat. "Someone who wants to ask you a couple of questions," Mungojerrie said. "Get lost," the voice snarled. Something stirred within the gloom, and empty bottles rolled out of the darkness. "What about if I offered you something in return?" Rumpleteazer asked, withdrawing the brandy they had stolen. "Alright then," the voice groaned. A filthy paw emerged from the booth, beckoning them inside.

As soon as the cats entered the booth the darkness lifted slightly, confirming Rumpleteazer's suspicion that it wasn't natural. Grumbuskin was a mess. His pale fur was matted and ragged, crusted with sand, mud, dried blood and meat juices. One eye was missing, a ragged bandana covering the bloody hole, and he was criss-crossed with livid scars, many of which looked infected. Half his nose was missing and his teeth were rotten and black. He stank of stale alcohol and rotten food. He was covered in a ragged blanket, which only added to the pathetic image. "What do you want to know?" he snarled. "What do you know about Griddlebone?" Mungojerrie asked. "She's the captain's mate," Grumbuskin muttered. Rumpleteazer gave a start, but Mungojerrie shook his head imperceptibly to everyone but his partner. "How did you end up here?" the tabby queen asked the ex-pirate. "None of your bloody business!" the pirate snarled. ""Alright, alright," Mungojerrie intervened. He slid the bottle of brandy across to Grumbuskin, who eagerly fell on the booze. He swiftly downed the lot, tipping his head back and just pouring it down his gullet.

The pirate swayed slightly. Mungojerrie almost pitied him. Grumbuskin had once been the second most feared cat in London, only bested by his captain. Now he a pathetic wreck of a cat, a mixture of regrets and health problems marinating in alcohol. Grumbuskin glared blearily at the thieves, swaying slightly. "Any … any … anything else you want to know?" he slurred. "Is Macavity carrying on Growltiger's crusade against foreign cats?" Mungojerrie asked, getting straight to the point. "He's not doing anything," the drunken cat laughed. "He's powerless against Fire and the cap…" Suddenly he went silent, his eyes seeming to clear. "You bastards," he snarled, lunging for Mungojerrie. The table was over turned and the thieves made a break for it. "Macavity will reward any cat who guts those Jellicles!" Grumbuskin screamed, pointing a crooked claw at them. For a second the entire bar turned to look at them. Then all hell broke loose.

Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer and their friends scrambled out of the bar, running for their lives. A huge tom with tattoos and scars from numberless fights covering his body made a leap for Jemima, but Erik intercepted him. The companions turned back to help their friend, but he didn't need it. Erik had already incapacitated the much larger cat, burying his opponent's nose in the dirt before leaping clear.

The friends ran out of the alley, and didn't stop until they took cover under a parked car. They were breathing heavily. "Well, that could have gone better," Plato muttered, putting his arm around Exotica. "Did you find out anything?" Jemima wheezed, clutching a stich in her side. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer looked at each other.

"Growltiger's Alive," they declared.


	19. The Fiend of the Fell

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer's friends were shocked. "But he died. The Siamese saw him die!" Jemima exclaimed, hugging Erik tightly. The idea that The Terror of the Thames could still be alive terrified the little queen. Plato, Exotica, Rumpleteazer and Jemima had grown up hearing stories of Growltiger, told by Gus, Jellyorum, Jennyanydots or any other the few other cats old enough to have been alive when he died.

Mungojerrie shook his head. "The Siamese didn't see him die. They saw him walk the plank and not come up. Everyone assumed he died because the attacks stopped. But what if he went underground to escape his own notoriety?" Plato shook his head, refusing to believe it. "What has all this to do with Macavity?" he asked. "Grumbuskin suggested that Growltiger is controlling Macavity in some way. Maybe threatening his family or some such thing." Jemima shook her head. "It makes no sense!" she exclaimed.

The friends loped back into the junkyard, making it back early the following morning. They found it in uproar and were surrounded the moment they approached it. Alonzo, Victor and George pushed their way through the crowd of anxious cats, allowing Munkustrap to confront the friends. "Where in the Everlasting Cat's name have you been?" he thundered. "Do you have any idea what you put us through? We thought Macavity had got you! You two I expected to know better," he snapped, turning to Plato and Jemima. The grey tom averted his eyes, scratching at the ground. Jemima looked like she was going to burst into tears. "As for you," Munkustrap snarled, rounding on Erik. "If you ever put my daughter in danger again, I will personally pull you limb from limb." "Don't you want to hear what we found out?" Mungojerrie asked. Munkustrap glowered at him. "Let's hear them out," Victor reasoned, moving to stand next to his older brother and commander. "Fine," Munkustrap forced himself to say. "My den. Ten minutes." With that the protectors, excluding Plato, turned and left, Jemima in the clutches of her father.

Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie were greeted by a tear stained Jennyanydots and Skimble. "Thank Bast you're safe," the Gumbie cat exclaimed, throwing her arms around her eldest daughter. Skimble joined in, while Mungojerrie stood there feeling awkward. "Don't you ever do that to us again," Jenny scowled at her daughter. In the meantime Skimble turned to his son in law. "What were the six of you up to?" he asked. Mungojerrie explained hurriedly. "Growltiger's alive?" the railway cat hissed. His wife turned with a start. "Tell me you're joking," she gasped. "I wish I was," the tabby tom replied in a low voice.

The tabby thieves slunk over to Munkustrap and Demeter's den, waiting outside. Exotica and Plato arrived just in time. "How are your family?" Mungojerrie asked. "My siblings were fine," Exotica replied. "They knew I was ok." She tapped the side of her head, referring to the phycic link they had. It was much stronger between Coricopat and Tamoline, but they could also reach out and check on their sisters. "Plato's were rather less understanding." The grey tom shrugged. "They'll get over it. They were more scared by the idea that Growltiger might be alive." "Mine were the same," Rumpleteazer agreed. "It must be different for them," Mungojerrie commented. "All of us were born long after everyone thought he died. They can remember when he was the most feared cat along the Thames." At that moment George emerged from the den. "You can come in," he said, flashing an encouraging thumbs up to the friends.

Munkustrap was brooding like a dark lord, Jemima cuddled up between her mother and Erik. Munkustrap's eyes flew to the door as George and the friends entered. Alonzo and Victor were there as well, along with Coricopat. "You have a lot of explaining to do," the protector commander growled. "Give them a chance," Demeter muttered towards her husband. "Jemima and Erik have already done their best." Munkustrap rubbed his temples. "Sorry that I lost my temper," he breathed heavily. "Just tell me what you found."

Mungojerrie explained their adventure in great detail, with Rumpleteazer and Plato cutting in occasionally. "Wait a second," Munkus said. "So you … entered the bar," he repeated. "And I will be having words with you about that," he said to Jemima. "Talked to the bar tender, then the two of you spoke with Grumbuskin. After you got him drunk, what did he say exactly?" "I asked if Macavity was continuing Growltiger's war on foreign cats. He laughed and said that Macavity wasn't, he was powerless against the cap… and then he realised what he was saying and…" "That not true," Rumpleteazer butted in. "what he said was 'He's powerless against Fire and the cap…' then he stopped." Munkustrap's eyes went wide. "Fire?" he asked in a croaky voice. Rumpleteazer nodded. "Definitely." The silver and black tabby sank onto his haunches. "Oh no," he whimpered. "What's wrong?" Alonzo asked his older brother. Munkustrap looked at his brother. "This explains what happened to Macavity. How he went from being our caring big brother to an absolute monster. But it's worse than that." "How could it be worse?" Erik asked. "The napoleon of crime is being controlled by the Terror of the Thames. What could be worse?" Munkustrap looked at the young cat. "The Fiend of the Fell," he replied quietly.

Every cat in the den, save for Erik, gasped in horror. "Sorry, who?" the ebony cat asked. "Firefrorefiddle," the chief protector said. When Erik shook his head, the silver tom continued. "Firefrorefiddle was a cat who lived out on the fells. He was a really nasty piece of work, murdered anything that moved for the fun of it. Mice, birds, cats and dogs. The stories say he even mauled a man to death. He was a massive cat, with a great long coat, burning red eyes and huge claws that he sharped on a wet stone. His usual haunt was up in the Pennine Fells, but he started moving south. Every city he visited, cats died. Nothing could stop him. But then he just … disappeared. No one knew what happened to him." He looked at Demeter, who was shivering. "This was years ago, when me and your mother were small kits. After he disappeared, they turned him into a story, then a myth. Gus even starred as him on stage. Got seven cat calls from the gallery and everything. But no one ever knew what happened to him. Some say he died. Pollicle Swill in my opinion. I don't think he could have died without all of Britain knowing it. I always thought that maybe he just grew tired of it all and stopped." The silver cat paused, looking at the scared felines before him. "If you're right, and Firefrorefiddle is working with Macavity and Growltiger, then we are in greater danger than we ever dreamed in our darkest nightmares."


	20. Magical Cats

Munkustrap was forced to explain the situation to the rest of the Jellicle tribe, who reacted as you expect to the news that not only the most feared pirate any of them had ever heard of was still on the loose, but the most feared serial killer might well be so as well.

Several days passed. Since news of Growltiger and Firefrorefiddle possible continued existence had hit, Munkustrap had put the Junkyard on lockdown. Most significantly, the old bunker had been reopened. The Bunker was a huge den, comprising many rooms and corridors, that had been carved out under the junkyard by a generation of Jellicles long past. The entire tribe had been instructed to leave their dens and move into the communal space, making protecting them easier. Only the adults were venturing outside for the odd spot of hunting, bringing back their kills to be shared with the other cats.

Erik chaffed at the confinement. He loathed being forced to hide like this. There was a rapping on the concealed trapdoor that led down to the den, three sharp raps followed by a short silence then two more knocks. The correct code having been knocked, Erik undid the multiple heavy bolts that held the man hole cover in place, swinging the door inside the tunnel. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer clambered inside, sacks bulging with stolen goods. Munkustrap and the others had softened their usually harsh view of their cat burglar ways ever since the thieves had started hauling in goods that the others couldn't get their paws on. This mainly consisted of milk and fish, along with various supplies that couldn't be scavenged from the junkyard such as medical supplies for Jenny. Their greatest contribution had been a large box of Christmas lights, which had been suspended throughout the otherwise pitch black den and powered by Quaxo and the other mystical cats.

"What have you got?" Erik asked his friends. Mungojerrie groaned as he clicked a crick in his neck. "Fish, milk, cream. We managed to steal a couple of chickens and a rabbit, along with some more disinfectant for Jenny." The tabby heaved his sack onto his back. "If anyone tells you thieving is an easy way to make a living, please direct them towards me and Rumpleteazer so we can teach them a lesson," the cat groaned as his mate and he carried off down the passage way. Erik heaved at the trapdoor with all his considerable strength, slamming it shut and securely bolting it.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer entered the large communal meeting space, like a much smaller, underground version of the main clearing above ground. The kittens were there already, playing and tumbling with each other while Old Deuteronomy, Jellyorum and Jennyanydots looked on. Rumpleteazer had recently managed to obtain some balls for the kittens to play with, and the little fur balls loved it. Etcetera slid along the compacted ground, chasing a bright green tennis ball that had been thrown by her brother Pouncival. The kit missed the catch, causing the ball to collide with a grumpy looking Rum Tum Tugger. He picked the ball of the ground, giving it a look as if it had personally insulted his mane.

The kittens, male ones included, squealed in delight, racing towards their favourite uncle. The Maine Coon laughed as they surrounded him. "How things?" he asked, shooting the kittens a dashing grin. Tumblebrutus stalked over towards Rumpleteazer. "It's pathetic," he muttered. Mungojerrie chuckled. Rumpleteazer frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked her cousin. "They're playing nicely and everything, then he has to come along and ruin it," the young adult snarled. "He's not even that great. All he's got is a stupid mane and some flashy dance moves." Suddenly Mungojerrie had an idea. "How would you like to spoil his fun?" the tabby asked. The acrobat's face lit up with an evil smile Mungo recognised from Rumpleteazer. This was going to be great.

The kittens were pawing at Tugger when suddenly the lights went dark. They started panicking, running around. Soon almost the entire tribe had entered into the central clearing, worried by the cutting out of the lights. At that moment a spot light, consisting of an old railway lantern operated by Plato, shone into being. Mungojerrie's voice echoed through the cavern. "May all kittens be upstanding and allow me to introduce the marvellous … the magical … Mr Mistoffelees!" With a flash of light and a loud bang, Quaxo suddenly stood in the spotlight, his fur glittering with magical energy. Most mystical cats, such as Coricopat, Tamoline and to a lesser extent their sisters, were secretive sorts, but Quaxo loved putting on shows for the other cats, having even invented the stage name "Mr Mistoffelees," to make himself sound more like a stage magician.

"Presto," the tuxedo cat declared, sending a bolt of lightning streaking across the cavern. The kittens cheered in delight, Tugger driven from their minds. Quaxo normally had three white legs, but he often used magic to alter his appearance. He was now almost entirely black, from his ears to the tip of his tail, with only his white face and chest marking remaining. "I require some volunteers," he said, resulting in every kitten raising their paws. Seven cats selected, Mistoffelees then had them huddle together and with a gesture, caught an old pot tossed to him by Rumpleteazer. From inside he produced a stream of rainbow cloth, which he wrapped around the cats. With a glow of light, the fabric went limb as they disappeared from within. The remaining cats gasped in amazement. Mungojerrie then handed the tuxedo tom a top hat. Mistoffelees seized a length of the rainbow pattern cloth and threw it over the top of the hat. He flashed a grin to Victoria, sitting in the audience that had gathered to watch, and removed the cloth with a flourish. There in the hat sat one of the cats. He repeated this six more times, until all seven cats had returned.

Mistoffelees bowed low as applause filled the cavern and the lights returned with a clap of his paws. The audience cheered and clapped as he took a bow. Coricopat clapped his friend on the back, congratulating him on the impressive trick. Suddenly, a cruel evil laugh filled the cavern. "Macavity," screamed Demeter, swiftly gathering her kits to her. Every cat ducked low to the ground, sniffing for the villain. The worse hit was Tumblebrutus. He fell to his knees, pawing at his ears and hissing in pain. "Get him out, get him out," the young tom whimpered as he twitched. Suddenly he started to convulse as if having a fit. Sparks started to fly from his frame and his fur started to flow as if made of light, changing colour like kaleidoscope.

Quaxo, Coricopat and Tamoline seized the thrashing tom. "He's going into into magically induced shock," Tamoline declared to the others as they held him down for her to force some herbs into his mouth. "Magically induced shock?" Quaxo asked. "It's a sort of fit," Coricopat explained. Happens when latently mystical cats suddenly erupt into power." Quaxo shook his head in confusion. "So is … is Tumblebrutus a mystical cat?" he asked. "I don't know," Coricopat answered. "An attack like this would usually be brought on deliberately by a magical cat, or else as a side effect of a magical attack." "But there's no one here," Quaxo exclaimed. "But there is … a presence," Tamoline muttered as what felt like a pressure wave pressed against the inside of her and Coricopat's laugh rang out again. "You have been meddling!" it cried, filling every nook and cranny, "In things which should have been left alone!" He paused for another evil cackle. "I you think the Napoleon of Crime was bad, just you wait until you have to deal with THE FIEND!"


	21. The Great Rumpus Cat

The adult cats met in Old Deuteronomy's den. "What in Bast's name just happened!?" he demanded. Coricopat, Tamoline and their sisters looked at each other. Quaxo, having dropped his stage persona, walked over to them, muttering something to the mystical twins. Many cats had slight mystical powers – Demeter seemed to be able to sense when Macavity was near, Jemima had a special connection with the moon and the ability to intuitively understand things far beyond her age. Exotica and Cassandra both had powers of their own, but nothing like their half siblings. Whereas Quaxo led the mystical cats in flashy magic, such as lightning or making things appear and disappear, Coricopat and Tamoline were far more powerful when it came to psychic abilities. They had put Tumblebrutus to bed in his den, having fed him the herbs Tamoline had produced and then left Jellyorum in charge with more herbs in case the tom woke up. The twins now spoke in perfect unison. "A powerful mystical cat projected his voice into the cavern, though he himself didn't enter. It was not a presence we recognised. We believe that this triggered a magical awakening in Tumblebrutus." Mungojerrie shook his head. "He called himself 'The Fiend.' Could it be Firefrorefiddle?" Munkustrap looked at Old Deuteronomy. The elderly cat sighed. "Firefrorefiddle was never caught. They would find savaged bodies, or cats who were still not dead, and he would be nowhere to be seen. People started saying he was a ghost who could disappear and reappear at will. If he had magical powers, it would explain how he could disappear so rapidly."

At this point, Alonzo spoke up. "More importantly, regardless of how he did it, is the fact that he projected his voice down here. Meaning he knows where we are." Old Deuteronomy nodded. "Macavity knew of this place. If my son is working with these fiends, or being forced to help them, they will know." "Then what is to stop them from appearing down here?" Tugger asked. Munkustrap smiled a grim smile. "Our ancestors knew well the risk of mystical cats. The entire den is lined with iron bars, and the ground is sown with salt." Tugger looked blankly at his older brother. Quaxo held his head in his paws. "Magic is temperamental. Iron and salt can nullify certain powers, stop mystical cats from transporting themselves through it. It would take an incredibly powerful mystical cat to even project his voice down here. How do you not know this?" Tugger shrugged. "I had better things to do when I was a kitten, than sit on daddy's knee and learn about magic."

"Anyway," Munkustrap snapped, cutting his brothers off. "It would appear that the information gleaned by the teens is right. And not only is Firefrorefiddle working with Macavity, but they know we know. Grumbuskin must have told them." Mungojerrie swore. Munkustrap looked at him. "You worked for Macavity. Can you think of any evidence that he was being forced to commit crimes?" Mungojerrie scowled at the protector. "I barely knew him, met him maybe three times. I would of thought you, as his family, would have been better placed to say." Munkustrap shrugged. "It wasn't a steady progression. On day he was looking fine, well on his way to joining the protectors. Then he just disappeared. When the crime wave broke out, we thought he was a victim. It wasn't until he … he took Demeter that we found out."

Erik raised his eyebrows. "Didn't that strike any of you as strange? He just left in the middle of the night, and started a criminal empire on a whim? What could have driven him to do that?" Demeter was shaking, her knees knocking together and tears welling in her eyes. Munkustrap helped her to a seat, which she collapsed into. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, stroking her face. The silver protector carried her away to their den, returning some time later. "It's all too much for her," he said. "Brings back too many hard memories. I don't care what they're doing to him, I can never forgive what he did to Demeter."

Rumpleteazer suddenly had an idea. "Had he even been interested in Demeter before?" she asked. "When you were growing up I mean." Munkustrap shook his head, as his siblings thought hard about their younger days. "Not that I know of. Me and Demeter were a couple since we were kittens. Macavity never expressed anything more than brotherly affection for her." Cat Morgan frowned. "So they didn't bribe 'im wiv 'er then. Yer know 'elp us and yer git the girl." Munkustrap shook his head. "I don't think so. Though based on what he did to her, it is a possibility." Plato shook his head. "So apparently a perfectly nice tom, with no interest in Demeter of crime, turned into a criminal mastermind and rapist overnight." Munkustrap shrugged. "It doesn't seem very likely," was all he said.

Coricopat looked at his sister as she called out for his attention. _"Could he be being controlled?" _she asked, her voice echoing inside his head. _"That would require a mystical cat of immense power." _"Did Macavity display magical powers before he left?" Tamoline asked. "Only slightly. He really showed what he was capable of afterwards," Old Deuteronomy said. "My family has magic in our blood, but only Macavity, Quaxo and Jemima have displayed them recently. Quaxo's mother was magical, which is why he's so powerful, but Macavity never displayed such powerful magic." Tamoline and Coricopat looked at each other. "It is possible that he is being controlled," they said in unison. The other cats looked at them questioningly. "Is that … possible?" George asked. "If Firefrorefiddle is as powerful as he appears to be, then yes. It would also explain Tumblebrutus's reaction. We have suspected for some time that he may have been a latent mystical, as shown by his affinity with Quaxo and his unusually highly developed acrobatic and dancing skills. It is possible that he was subconsciously aiding himself using magic. If the Fiend tried to possess him, Tumblebrutus's powers would have fought back, causing the melt down we witnessed."

The cats left soon after, putting the kittens to bed. Munkustrap called over the other protectors. "I need someone to keep an ear to the ground. See if any cats know anything about Macavity." Victor snorted. "Who among us could do that? Every cat in London knows that we're Jellicles. Anyone who knows anything won't talk to us." George shifted uneasily. "I could…" "No," Alonzo cut in. "We can't be sure Macavity doesn't know." George scowled at his brother. "Do you have any other ideas?" he asked. Munkustrap nodded. "If you're willing … go right ahead."

George approached Mungojerrie, who was guarding the door. "Going hunting?" the tabby thief asked as he unbolted the trap door. "Not exactly," the protector replied as he slipped out of the opening. Once he was under cover, he dropped the sack he was carrying and got changed. He slicked down his fur and spiked up an impressive mane along his back with grease, donned brilliant red lenses over his eyes and slipped a stylised "R" over his chest. George was left in the junkyard. The Great Rumpus Cat stalked out.


	22. Pollicle Dogs

Rumpleteazer, Jemima and Electra sat alone in a corner talking animatedly. Tumblebrutus had finally stopped convulsing and changing colour, though his fur still glimmered with energy. The two queens were discussing the recent turn of events. "Cori and tam said that he's going to be ok though," Rumpleteazer said, putting her arm around the teen. Electra sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes. "It was just so scary. To see him like that … it was as if he wasn't himself." Jemima cuddled up to her litter mate. "He'll be ok," she said. Rumpleteazer's attention was draw to a pair of small figure scurrying across the den, heading for Jenny's den. The calico queen pounced, pinning one of the figures to the ground. The mouse wriggled, trying to get free. To her surprise the other target, an insect of some sort, attacked her paw, attempting to free the mouse rather than escape. "Help!" squeaked the trapped mouse.

Rumpleteazer recoiled in surprise. Mice didn't normally speak, unless... "What're you doing here?" she hissed. The mouse and bug made a dash for it. "I'm ordering you to report in," Rumpleteazer snapped. The pair froze. "Miss Teazer?" the mouse asked. "Is that you?" "Well who else would it be?" the calico queen replied. Jemima and Electra stuck their heads around their cousin, looking at the strange pair. "Who are they?" Jemima asked. "Warrant Officer Thomas of the first Rodent Reconnaissance Corp," the mouse introduced himself. "And Lieutenant Gustavo of the third cockroach assault regiment," The bug finished. The cats looked at them blankly. Electra whispered in Rumpleteazer's ear. "How can they speak?" she muttered. "I would guess that my mother taught them," Rumpleteazer replied at normal volume, almost questioning rodent. "That is correct miss," Gustavo nodded. "Now could you inform us of the location of Brigadier Anydots?" Rumpleteazer pointed towards the den that her mother and father shared within the complex. "Thank you miss," the cockroach responded, pulling off a strange, two-legged salute, before scuttling off.

Her cousins looked with wide, surprised eyes at Rumpleteazer. She stared back, a bemused look on her feline face. "What?" she finally asked. "Who, in Bast's name, were they?" Jemima asked. "Warrant Officer Thomas and Lieutenant Gustavo. Weren't you listening?" Jemima felt smacking her friend, but restrained herself. "What were a speaking cockroach and mouse doing looking for your mother?" Rumpleteazer sighed. "They're members of the mice and cockroach groups that my mother trains. Mostly it's music, crochet and tatting, but she's also been teaching them to speak, read, write and subjecting them to military training." "How could you tell they were members of your mother's group?" Jemima asked. Rumpleteazer grinned. "Gustavo. He had the beetle tattoo she designed on his back. No other cockroaches have that mark."

Gustavo and Thomas sat in the feline den, feeling distinctly out of place. Jenny and Skimble sat opposite them, with Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy presiding. "You're sure about this?" Deuteronomy pressed the cockroach. "Absolutely sir," the insect confirmed. Munkustrap turned to Jenny. "And you're sure we can trust them?" the Gumbie cat nodded. "I would trust them with my kitten's lives," she responded. The protector shook his head. "Your ... soldier ... saw a cat matching that description?" he asked the cockroach again. "Long white fur, slightly tattered looking, no collar yet well cared for and we retrieved this," he said, nudging the mouse sitting next to him. The rodent reached into a bag he was carrying and withdrew a locket. Inside was an etching of a fearsome looking cat with one ear, one eye and tabby fur. "Certainly fits the description," Munkustrap muttered. "One ear somewhat missing, one forbidding eye. This could well be Growltiger." Skimble voiced what they were all thinking. "Only one long haired white would be carrying a picture of Growltiger." He turned to the two soldiers. "I would say it is probable that you've found Griddlebone's lair."

Jennyanydots ordered the two warriors to return to the stationmaster's house, and to continue observing suspect cats. George meanwhile had contacted some associates of his. The cat, done up as the Great Rumpus Cat, glared around. It was a mark of the respect that his alter ego commanded that he was still alive, let alone where he was. The Pollicles stared at him, canine mistrust in their eyes. A Welsh Collie and Irish Wolfhound stood on either side of him, making sure he didn't suddenly attack the pack. The dog whom he had come to see sat above them, staring down with calculating eyes. Frey growled. "Why have you come here, cat?" the Alsatian asked. "I wish to talk with your Alpha on a matter of great importance to both your pack and my tribe. The alpha silenced the beta with a wave of her paw. Freya stalked down from her commanding position to speak muzzle to face with the cat. Female alphas in dogs packs were rare, but not unheard of. "You have long been a friend to our pack, Rumpus. But it is the height of irregularity for a cat to seek and audience, despite your honoured position. This you must understand." "I understand the great privilege being done to me," the cat responded. A highland terrier spoke up at this point. "We all know the debt that the Rumpus Cat is owed by our pack, ever since the great battle. He helped us drive off the Peke, Pug and Pom Alliance, without any bloodshed. I say we hear what he has to say. A basset and poodle agreed loudly with this, which was responded to by a Great Dane and Dalmatian starting to bark at them. Soon the entire tribe was barking and it took a menacing growl from Frey to bring quiet. "Thank you brother" the alpha nodded. "We will listen to our honoured friend," she declared.

George quickly outlined the situation with Macavity and the suspicion that all was not as it seemed. At the mention of the Napoleon of Crime a great growl went up, only to be quieted by Freya and Frey. The German Sheppards bid their guest go on. When he finally reached the end of his tale, the dogs were aghast. Freya shook her head sadly. "We have been having troubles with the Hidden Paw ourselves. His henchcats grow bolder and bolder each day. We have even had to start chasing them off of our territory," she said, gesturing to the park that surrounded them. "That Firefrorefiddle or the Terror of the Thames might have returned is particularly troubling. But I am afraid I have more bad news for you." The Pollicle Alpha paused, clearing her throat. "We have information that Macavity has started employing strays. Canine strays." George hissed. By human standards most of the Jellicles and Pollicles would qualify as strays, meaning that most of them wore collars to stop them from being picked up by animal control, but there was a separate class of canine and feline renegades that even they called stray or feral. These animals were tribe or packless, with no loyalty or inhibitions. They were the go to choice when the criminal tribes and packs wanted hired muscle.

"Dogs?" George mewed, uncertain he had heard correctly. "Vicious dogs," Freya confirmed. "Caucasian Shepards, Pit Bulls, Bull Terriers and the like." George rubbed his eyes. "How is he controlling them?" he asked. "We do not know, though I would suspect that food plays a large role." The cat nodded. "I thank you for talking with me. But now I must return to my tribe." Freya nodded. "Hamish and Llewellyn will escort you. This is no time for honest cats or dogs to wander the streets alone." George nodded as his guards, the Highland Terrier and Collie, joined him. "I will now take my leave," the cat said, but before he could turn to go, Freya yapped for him to stay a moment. "You should tell Old Deuteronomy that we will side with you. He has done much to improve relationships between our people, and I have the utmost faith in him. If you need us, you need only ask."

Back in the junkyard, Rumpleteazer and Jemima had snuck out of the bunker to do some hunting. It felt good to have the wind in their fur and the moonlight on their skin. A shout hailed them from atop a pile of rubbish. It was Mungojerrie. "Teazer, Jemmi, come up here. You've got to see this he called, before scampering over the crest of the trash and disappearing from sight. The queens gave chase, rounding the top of the pile to reveal nothing. No sign of Mungojerrie, no sign of anything worth seeing. The queens trotted down into a valley formed by the rubbish piles surrounding it. "Jerrie," Rumpleteazer called out. "Where are you?" "Over here," came the reply, as if it were a breath of wind given voice. "No over here," came another cry, from the other direction. "Come this way," declared a third voice. "Something's wrong," Jemima muttered. Rumpleteazer nodded. The queens turned to leave, but were brought face to face with the slavering jaws of two great hounds. There was no time to scream or shout, they just ran. The dogs gave chase, but they were not as agile as the cats. But their longer leg length was playing to their advantage, and they gained in the pair."Get back to the den," Rumpleteazer ordered. "I'll lead them off." Jemima shook her head as they ran. "I'm not leaving you out here," she hissed, but it was too late. Rumpleteazer had doubled back, leaping over the heads of the dogs and leading them in the opposite direction.

Jemima reached the entrance to the communal den, hammering on the door. "Let me in," she yelled. "Help me." The door swung open, and she tumbled into the lap of Erik. "What were you doing out there?" he asked incredulously. "No time to explain. Get the protectors. Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie are still out there, and there are dogs after them."

Rumpleteazer squeezed down a pipe that was too narrow for the dogs to follow easily. She staggered out on the other side, looking around. Mungojerrie stood there, the moonlight sparkling off his striped fur. "What's goin' on?" he asked. "Dogs..." Rumpleteazer breathed heavily, clutching a stitch in her side. "They chased ... me and Jemima." Mungojerrie put his arms around her. "Don't worry babe. You're safe here." Rumpleteazer didn't see the burly cat that grabbed her from behind, didn't see the strong arms that clamped over her throat and choked the life out of her. The last thing she saw, before the blackness took her, was Mungojerrie. Standing there and grinning.


	23. Spirit Cats

The Junkyard was in uproar, with every available cat busy searching for the missing Rumpleteazer. Jenny and Skimble were tearing their fur out with worry. Jemima had been thoroughly quizzed by Munkustrap, but there was little she could tell. Augustus and Bernadette stalked over to the silver tabby. "Munkustrap, I think we have to consider the obvious," the tom said. The protector looked at the younger cats. "What do you mean?" Bernadette shifted uneasily. "Jemima said that they were following Mungojerrie and he's disappeared as well. Could he have taken her?" Munkustrap didn't want to consider it, but it was a distinct possibility. He called Jemima over. The red kitten had tears streaking her face and her body was wracked with sobs. "Jemima honey," her father crooned, beckoning to her. The teen threw her arms around his neck. "Listen to me," he said calmly. "I know it's difficult but ... you said you were following Mungojerrie. Is it possible that he was ... was trying to trap you?" The young queen pushed her father away roughly. "Of course not. He's our friend. He loves Rumpleteazer. Why would he want to hurt her?" She was yelling by now. Erik raced over. "What's wrong?" he asked, taking her in his arms and trying to calm her down. "They think Mungojerrie had something to do with it," she hissed. Erik embraced her as Munkustrap looked on. Jemima's faith in the thief didn't help him. He still had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach about the young cat. He had worked for Macavity, that was unavoidable. He claimed that he had not been a henchcat, but they only had his word for that. Munkustrap called over the other protectors. "Mungojerrie is now to be treated as an enemy. Try to capture him is possible." He looked at the shocked faces. "He's disappeared as well and he use to work for Macavity. We have to be cautious." Coricopat shook his head violently. "He's a good cat. Just think of all he has done for the tribe since he joined us. All the medicine and food he has gotten for us. He fought off Macavity three times. He loves Rumpleteazer. He wouldn't betray her." Plato nodded in agreement, but Victor and Alonzo looked uncertain. "We can't be sure he wasn't trying to infiltrate us. I want him brought in alive," Munkustrap snapped. Erik met up with Plato and Exotica. "Have you heard?" he asked. "About what? Rumpleteazer?" the Abyssinian queen asked. "No, Mungojerrie. Munkustrap thinks he might have had a paw in her disappearance. He's ordered that he be captured," Plato sighed. "I don't buy it," Exotica declared. "He was never anything but good to us." "Do you think I like it?" Plato asked. "I know," Erik whispered. "Jemima agrees. She tried to tell her father, but he thinks she's blinded by her friendship." The cats continued the search, but by now they all knew in their heart of hearts that they were not going to find her. Jenny was in consolable, while Skimble just sat there, staring off into the distance. Etcetera, Pouncival and Carbucketty sat with their parents and wept. Jellylorum did her best for them, but nothing helped. Coricopat and Tamoline meanwhile were gathering every cat that had even a scrap of magic. The cats sat around in a circle, paws linked. Demeter looked around nervously. "What are you doing?" the golden queen asked. "We're going to try and locate Rumpleteazer," the male Grimalkin said. We just need you and Jemima to close your eyes and think of Rumpleteazer." The queen nodded, closing her eyes as her daughter followed suit. Tumblebrutus, recently revived and brought up to speed, did the same. Cassandra and Exotica tightly gripped each other's paws and thought as well. These cats, with their touch of magic, provided the power source. Quaxo shuddered, his tailed twitching like a marionette, before he lent his considerable power to the circle. Each cat jumped as if hit with an electric shock, but still they held on. Coricopat glanced at his twin sister, who nodded. It was they who would guide this collection of felines to the spectral plane, and there try and locate the missing queen. It was a difficult and dangerous spell, and before Tumblebrutus displayed his powers there was no way the tribe could have performed it. Quaxo had already tried summoning Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie like he had with Old Deuteronomy, but something was shielding them. The mystical twins closed their eyes, and the world around them dissolved into mist. Tamoline felt like she was floating, suspended far above London. She looked down on the city as if sitting on a cloud, letting her mind wander over its many back streets and alley ways. A voice she recognised as her brother's spoke to her. "Concentrate harder. Think of Rumpleteazer." The queen turned her head to face the voice, only to be confronted by a pale, translucent shadow of her twin that seemed to be made of mist or a light fog. She looked down at her paws, and saw that she was the same. Her brother's voice echoed in her head again. "Think of Rumpleteazer," he said again. She concentrated, dredging up every memory she had of the young queen. She saw in her mind's eye a little kitten, born alone with no litter. She saw the kitten, bigger and fluffier, playing with her parents and cats that she recognised as Plato, Admetus, Tumblebrutus, Bill Bailey, Exotica and Quaxo. Then Rumpleteazer was being carried into the junkyard by another ginger teen, this one a tom. It was the night Mungojerrie had rescued her. She remembered squeals of excitement after Mungo had first asked her out on a date, then the day that he had asked to be her mate. Now she saw the almost fully grown queen dancing at the last Jellicle ball, content in Mungojerrie's arms. "Can you feel the pull?" Coricopat asked. Tamoline nodded. Her spirit was drawn to a street, a dingy alley behind a warehouse in the East End. Her spirit descended into it, followed by Coricopat. A low entrance seemed to glow with ethereal light as the spirit cats approached. But they found that they could go no further, as they were held back as if an invisible wall blocked their path. "More power," Tamoline grunted as they strained. Then, with the strength of eight cats rather than two, they broke through. Their spirits slipped into the hole in the wall. Brutal looking cats with scars and wickedly sharp claws guarded the entrance, but Tamoline and Coricopat stole past them, invisible to all but the most powerful mystical cats. The interior was plush, filled with pillows and sheets. White feathers floated through the air, a generation of ducks slaughtered in the name of comfort. "This is no barracks or prison," Coricopat muttered. "This is ... luxury." Tamoline nodded towards a door that stood ajar. Flowing like fog, the cats drifted through. The corridor that confronted them couldn't be more different from the room they had just left. It was dark, dimly lit by smoke belching candles, and bare earth walls replaced feathered luxury. A lone figure ahead of them turned a corner, but Coricopat and Tamoline still caught sight of a fluffy white tail. "Griddlebone," Coricopat hissed. "Stay focused," his sister breathed. Their invisible, spectral forms sped through the tunnels, eventually reaching a pathetic cat chained to the wall. Tamoline longed to reach out and embrace her friend, but her insubstantial form could touch the prone form of Rumpleteazer. The normally cheery queen looked beaten down. Mud and dirt smeared her fur, she had several raw wounds and one eye was blackened. Griddlebone looked down imperiously at her captive. "I've been more than civil with you, which you have repaid with nothing but insolence and coarse words. Now are you going to tell me what I want to know, or do I have to stop being nice?" Rumpleteazer glared at her, the fire still alight in her eyes. "Go to hell," she snarled. Griddlebone sighed, the older queen shaking her head in despair. "What are you holding out for?" The Jellicles don't know where you are. No one is coming to get you. Or have you forgotten who handed you over?" Rumpleteazer snarled again, straining against her chains. "I don't know what you've done to him, but you will pay for it," the ferocious young cat howled. "Done? We've done nothing to him dear. He was always like this." With that she snapped her fingers. A figure emerged from the gloom behind her. Mungojerrie sneered. "Evening love," he laughed. 


	24. I'm Not That Cat

Coricopat hissed, even though there was only Tamoline to hear him. The protector was outraged. All his trust, everything the Jellicles had done for the dirty thief had been forgotten in a moment. "Listen," Tamoline snapped. "Have you even heard Mungojerrie talk like that?" Coricopat listen closely. There was a cockney lilt to his voice, his language courser and less erudite. Coricopat had certainly never heard the tabby cat use the word "babe" to refer to anyone, let alone Rumpleteazer. Something wasn't right. "Now let's try this again, darlin'" Mungojerrie sneered. "Where is my child?" Griddlebone demanded. "I have no idea who that is," Rumpleteazer snarled. "Why don't you answer her yourself?" she spat at Mungojerrie. The tabby thief ignored the question. "I am losing patience," her captor hissed, the white queen scowling. "Now tell me where it is, or we'll wipe your precious family off the map." "Have you ever seen what a dog can do to a cat?" Mungojerrie asked softly. Rumpleteazer looked up at her mate and stifled back a giggle. "What is it?" he asked angrily. "You're ... you're not Mungojerrie," she laughed. The tabby looked furious. "She's lost it," he snapped at Griddlebone, who recoiled. "What do we do now?" she asked. Mungojerrie ignored her, turning on his heel and stormed out of the cell block, followed by the fluffy white queen. Coricopat and Tamoline approached the still laughing Rumpleteazer. Coricopat concentrated hard, trying to project his voice into her head. "Are you ok?" he asked. Rumpleteazer gave a start. "Coricopat?" she whispered, looking around. "Coricopat and I are here in spirit only," Tamoline explained. "Once we return to our bodies we will bring help." "Well could you hurry up," Rumpleteazer replied darkly. "How did you know that your captor isn't Mungojerrie?" Coricopat asked. Rumpleteazer nodded. "His face," she explained. "He has a trio of scars from where Macavity clawed him. I don't know who that cat was, but he didn't have the scars. His voice, his demeanour … everything was off. That wasn't my Mungojerrie." "We must leave now," Tamoline said. "No don't leave me here alone!" Rumpleteazer begged. "We must, or we cannot summon help," Coricopat explained. Rumpleteazer slumped. "Please hurry," she whispered. "And try to find Mungo." Coricopat and Tamoline flew away, returning to their bodies. The opened their eyes, gasping for breath and covered in a cold sweat. The mystical cats they had gathered also opened their eyes. "Did you find her?" Jemima asked instantly. Coricopat nodded. "She is being held at Griddlebone's home," he whispered through cracked lips. "Summon the protectors. We must retrieve her." Munkustrap, Old Deuteronomy and George, now removed from his Rumpus Cat persona, were meeting in Old Deuteronomy's private rooms. "You're sure about this?" Munkustrap asked George. "Freya was certain. He's using dogs." The silver protector breathed heavily. "Does that cat know no bounds?" he asked. "Freya said that the Pollicles will stand with us," George said, turning to his father. The old leader nodded. "Freya is a good and wise leader. She has done more for canine-feline relations than any other alpha I've known. I think we can trust her." At that moment Coricopat and Tamoline staggered into the den, supported by Jemima, Tumblebrutus and Quaxo. Munkustrap and George immediately rose, allowing the mystics to be sat down. "What's happened?" Old Deuteronomy demanded. "We … we found Rumpleteazer," Tamoline gasped. Old Deuteronomy cocked his head. "What?" Coricopat looked up at the Leader with dulled eyes. "She's being held at Griddlebone's den in the city. We saw two guards on the doors, but there may be more. She's being held in a cell block off the entrance hall." Tamoline breathed deeply before taking over. "Rumpleteazer believes that Mungojerrie is being impersonated by another cat. From what we saw she may be right." "Why would they do this?" Old Deuteronomy asked "Griddlebone is looking for her child. They seem to think that Rumpleteazer knows it." Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap exchanged a worried glance. "How do you know this?" Munkustrap insisted. "Temporal Separation," Coricopat muttered, exhaustion permeating his voice. "Spirit Cats," Tamoline clarified. "But that would require intense power," Old Deuteronomy mused. "How we did it isn't important!" Coricopat tried to yell, but the sound came out as a croak instead. "Just get a team together. We can rescue Rumpleteazer." The Cats were swiftly assembled. Munkustrap, Victor, Augustus, Alonzo and Plato were selected to lead the rescue mission, while Coricopat and George stayed behind to guard the kittens. They brought Quaxo along to provide some additional firepower, while Skimbleskanks, Jennyanydots, Morgan and Honoria also insisted on coming, along with Erik and Exotica. Tamoline, having recovered from the spirit cat journey much faster than her brother, was going with them as a guide. This left the queens, along with Admetus, Tumblebrutus and Bill Baily, to help guard the junkyard. Munkustrap gently stroked Demeter, holding her close. "We'll be back," he said, trying to comfort the nervous queen. She smiled tearily up at him. "Just make sure you are," she said, snuggling into his chest fur. The silver protector didn't want to move from that moment, but his duty demanded it. He gently kissed Demeter before turning to the large rescue party. "Move out," he declared, leading them out of the gate. The Cats followed him, trotting alongside and behind him. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear," Munkustrap said to Jenny, catching hold of his older sister. "Once we break in, you don't enter until we've cleared the den. Understand?" Jenny scowled at her younger brother. "No chance. I'm not going to stand by while my daughter is in danger." Munkustrap shook his head irritably. "You're no fighter Jenny." The Gumbie cat smiled. "Have you ever seen a queen defending her kits?" the motherly queen asked sweetly. "Rumpleteazer's not a kit anymore," Munkustrap pointed out. Jenny shook her head slowly. "She'll always be my little kitten," the mother snarled, flexing her claws. At that moment they round a corner and were confronted by the last cat any of them expected to see. Mungojerrie. In a flash Munkustrap seized him by the neck and pinned him against the wall. "You'd better start talking, or I hand you over to Skimbleshanks, Jenny and Morgan," the silver tabby snarled. "Bast's sake," the young Tom choked. "Just hear me out." 


	25. Rescue Mission

Munkustrap and Alonzo had Mungojerrie pinned to the ground. The tabby thief looked up at them. "We're wasting time you idiots," he hissed. "Can it fingers," Alonzo snarled. "I'm not the cat you're after," Mungojerrie exclaimed. "I know where Rumpleteazer is. I need your help to rescue her." Munkustrap beckoned Tamoline over. "Can you do that mind thing that Coricopat did?" he asked. "To see if he's lying?" Tamoline nodded, gently placing her paws on either side of Mungojerrie's head. "I'm sorry about this Mungo. Just relax," she said apologetically, before closing her eyes. They flickered open a second later. "He's telling the truth. He didn't catnap Rumpleteazer." Alonzo and Munkustrap released Mungojerrie, as Plato and Erik helped him up. "Thank you," the tom spat, glaring at the protectors.

"Why did you disappear?" Munkustrap demanded. "When Rumpleteazer disappeared, I knew you'd blame me. I was trying to find her. Maybe even rescue her to prove I was innocent." "Why didn't you just talk to us?" Jenny said. "You're like one of the family." Mungojerrie snorted with derision. "No I'm not. After everything I've done for you, for the Jellicles, you all just see a thief. How many of you doubted that I would have catnapped Rumpleteazer?" Munkustrap shifted uncomfortably. "Erik, Plato and Jemima believed you," Tamoline said softly. "My brother and I, along with Exotica thought you were innocent. Even Munkustrap didn't like it. No one wanted to believe it, but a cat resembling you was seen. They were just being cautious Mungojerrie. We're your friends." The tabby thief scowled. Exotica flicked her tail.

"We can debate just how guilty you are of jumping the gun later," Mungojerrie snarled. "Right now, Rumpleteazer is being held captive by Griddlebone and her guards." "Coricopat and I only saw two guards, Griddlebone and a tom posing as you," Tamoline filled Mungo in as the cats started moving again. "Gribblebone has at least eight henchcats guarding her," Mungojerrie corrected her. "There's also an escape tunnel out the back. Anyone tries to make a move on the den, Griddlebone will be out of there in a flash." Munkustrap processed this new information. "Mungo take Tugger, Victor, Morgan and Honoria. Show them this escape route and make sure they don't come out that way." The thief snorted. "Do you think they're that stupid? The tunnel comes out on the other side of the river. We could never get there in time." "So we're going to burst into Griddlebone's den, knowing she can get away?" Tugger sneered. "Griddlebone is not the reason we are here," Skimbleshanks cut in. "We are here to rescue Rumpleteazer, not capture the white queen." Mungo nodded. "If we catch her, good. If not, no use crying. We rescue Rupleteazer before anything else."

The Cats crept up to the entrance of the den. It was a sheet of corrugated metal, heavily locked from the inside. Quaxo laid his paws on the cold, rusted metal. He took a deep breath, readying himself. "Presto," the tuxedo muttered. The door exploded, flying inwards as if fired out of a cannon. Before the smoke had even started to clear, the rescue party flooded in. All was almost instantly claws, biting and whirling combat. The broken, bloody figure of a guard was lying, unmoving, under the twisted wreckage of the door. The protectors spearheaded the attack, engaging the stunned henchcats. Tugger and Quaxo fought back to back. It was clear that Growltiger had greatly improved the protection for his mistress, as a small army of brutal looking cats tried to repel the attackers. Mungojerrie lashed out, sending one of the thugs stumbling away with blood leaking from his face. A pair of the fallen cat's companions rounded on him, before Plato shoulder charged them. Erik was like a black hurricane of fury, disabling cats right left and centre. He dived between Tamoline and a bulky cat with only three paws, bring his opponent down with a blow to the throat. "Let's get Rumpleteazer," the shadowy cat snarled. Tamoline nodded, and Erik, Mungojerrie and Jenny followed her down to the cells.

The cats raced around corners, until they reached the segment of the block that held prisoners. When Tamoline and Coricopat had been her their vision had been restricted by the ethereal mists, but now she could see the whole horrible complex. Pitiful shells of cats lay still in cages and cells, only their faint, ragged breathing confirming that they were still alive. Jenny looked around in horror, while Erik seemed close to tears. "We have to get them out of here," he croaked. Mungojerrie nodded, seizing a ring of keys from the wall. "I'll do it," Tamoline said, taking the keys from him. "She's at the end. Go get Rumpleteazer."

They found her at the end of the corridor, still chained to the wall. If anything, she seemed more bruised and beaten than the last time Tamoline had seen her. Mungojerrie bounded up to her, trying to shake her away. "Wake up. Wake up," he whispered. Rumpleteazer stirred slightly. "Please … don't … not again," he whimpered. Mungo had tears in his eyes as her undid the chains that held her, taking the queen in his arms. "You're going to be ok," he whispered, kissing her delicately. Jenny stormed over. "How is she," the Gumbie cat asked as she took her daughter from Mungojerrie. "She's alive," came a voice from the shadows. The cats rounded on the voice as the speaker emerged from the gloom. It was Mungojerrie. Erik looked from his friend, back to the newcomer and back again. "What in Bast's name!" the fighter hissed. Mungojerrie didn't speak. He leapt at the other tom, bowling him over.

The identical cats rolled on the floor, clawing at each other. Mungojerrie pulled his doppelganger to his feet, before throwing the offending cat into the earth wall of the tunnel. The tom pulled himself up, laughing through blood stained teeth. Erik saw chunks of hardened earth coming away in his claws as a spider web of cracks emanated from the point of impact and started to spread. The black cat joined his friend in attacking the imposter. Mungojerrie went flying, a kick to the stomach having winded him. The attacker sprang after him, pinning him to the ground. But at that point jenny joined the fray.

The motherly queen seized the offending tom and lifted him like a kitten by the scruff of the neck. "You hurt my daughter," she snarled, fire in her usually kind eyes. The impersonator spat out a tooth, before sneering at her. "You can win here missy," he drawled. "But you're all doomed. The boss is goin' wipe the Jellicles out. And der's nuffin you can do 'bout it." Jenny smiled, but her eyes were still aflame with rage. She closed a paw around the throat of her captive. "Your boss will never lay a claw on us again," she snarled. "And you won't be there to see us take him down." With that she spun the criminal around, before launching him head first into the wall. A resounding "CRACK," echoed through the tunnel, and then silence fell.


	26. Prisoners

Erik was shocked. Jenny breathed heavily before recoiling from what she'd done. She staggered backwards. "I … I…" she gabbled, transfixed by the limp body of the henchcat. As they watched the body started to change. His fur started to fall out as if he suffered from mange, but as the ginger clumps dropped to the floor, brown hairs took their place. His body seemed to expand, growing to a larger size. Erik slowly approached the body, turning it over slowly. The face no longer resembled Mungojerrie in the slightest.

While the two cats examined the rapidly cooling body of the imposter, the real Mungojerrie stooped and took Rumpleteazer in his arms. "Come on," the tabby at hissed, gently shaking her. "Wake up." He leaned close and planted a light kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open. "Mungojerrie?" she asked through parched throat and split lips. "It's me, I came," her mate crooned, cradling her like a helpless kitten. "You came," the queen breathed, smiling before passing out again. Mungojerrie stroked her gently before picking her up gingerly.

The trio hurried down the tunnel as more and more cracks started to appear in the wall. Tamoline came skidding around the corner, accompanied by a sandy Abyssinian tom none of them recognised. "What happened?" Tamoline demanded, but the answer was cut off by a hiss of rage from her companion. "Him!" the tom thundered, baring his claw and glaring at Mungojerrie. "No, no" Tamoline snapped, stepping between the two. "Xerxes, he's not who you think he is. The tom that has been keeping you here was an imposter. Look at the scars he's got." The Abyssinian slowly back down. "You're right," he growled, though he did not take his eyes off Mungojerrie. "Why haven't you left?" Erik asked.

"Two of the prisoners need help," Tamoline explained, gesturing to the forms of four more Cats. One was a small queen kitten with golden brown fur, a broken tabby pattern and tipped ears. She was evidently unconscious. A slightly larger kitten was nudging her to get moving, though he was in no fit state to escape. One leg was kept tenderly off the ground, suggesting a sprain if not a break. The others comprised a matching kitten and adult queen. The kitten was terrified, curled up close to his mother as she licked him tenderly. They were two of the most striking cats Jenny had even seen. Both were ginger, but with thick black stripes, looking for all the world like miniature tigers. The queen looked up at Jenny as her son burrowed into her fur.

"I'm ok, but I can only carry Wiscus here. Can you two help James and Pushdragon?" she asked, indicating the kittens. "Of course," Jenny breathed, picking up the brown kitten. Erik looped on arm around the tom kitten, while the male Abyssinian Tamoline had called Xerxes took the other, helping him to hobble along. Something didn't seem right about the cat, but Erik couldn't put a paw on what it was until he looked back behind them to check on Jenny and Mungojerrie and saw what was wrong. "Where in Bast's name is your tail?" he asked, shocked. "Did they … dock you?" he asked, gesturing to the cat's tailless state. The kitten shook his head, struggling to stay upright against the wave of pain and fatigue assaulting him. "Manx," he whispered in a low voice. "Manx? What do you mean Manx?" Erik demanded. The Abyssinian patted the charcoal cat on the back. "It's his breed. Manx cats don't have tails," he explained softly.

The entrance hall was a mess, injured cats laying in the dirt left and right. Blood stained feathers were scattered all around. Skimble sprang to his feet, waving away Quaxo who was tending to him, as Jenny and the others emerged. The railway cat embraced his mate and nephew before turning to his daughter. "Is she ok?" he asked. Mungojerrie nodded silently, passing the young queen over. Skimble looked down into his daughter's face and tears started to trickle down his face. "Those bas…" the tom's exclamation was cut off by the re-emergence from a back room of Munkustrap, Alonzo and Plato. "Griddlebone got away," the silver Chief Protector spat, before seeing Skimbleshanks holding Rumpleteazer, then Jenny cradling a kitten and finally the other strange cats looking nervously at him. "You got her," the protector breathed. Erik nodded. "And who are these fine felines?" Munkustrap asked, looking at the rescued prisoners. "Prisoners," Tamoline said shortly. "Is this it?" Munkustrap asked. "There were some others that I let out," Tamoline corrected him, looking around for the missing felines. "They're gone," Victor explained. "They couldn't wait to get out of here."

The Jellicles had gotten off very lightly, with the most serious casualty being Augustus, who had had his tail broken. Mungojerrie, Plato, Exotica and Erik walked together as the rescue party returned to The Junkyard. "Thank you for coming," the tabby cat said, nuzzling his friend affectionately. "You should have heard Jemima pleading with her father to let her come," Exotica laughed. Plato and Erik sniggered along with her, the young protector entwining his tail with hers.

The rescuers staggered back into the junkyard, wearied by stress and the battle. Old Deuteronomy, Coricopat and George met them at the gate. "Thank goodness," the leader exclaimed as Skimble carried Rumpleteazer through the entrance. "Is she ok?" The railway cat nodded. "And who do we have here?" the leader asked as the rescued prisoners were led through the gate. The tigeress queen and sandy Abyssinian both bowed low before the famous old Deuteronomy. "Oh don't," he fussed. "We don't but much store on ceremony here." The cats raised their heads. "My name is Pettipaws," the queen introduced herself. "And who is this fine young chap?" Old Deuteronomy asked, looking at the kitten she had with her. The fluffy little tom cowered away. "His name is Wiscus," his mother said, trying to comfort her offspring. "And who are you my good fellow?" Old Deuteronomy continued, turning to the tom. "Xerxes sir," the sandy cat replied. "Don't call me sir," laughed Old Deuteronomy. "And are these two yours?" he asked. "No. My name is James Buz-James," the tailless kitten introduced himself. "Her name is Pushdragon," he said, indicating the still sleeping golden brown kitten.

Pushdragon, James Buz-James and Rumpleteazer where installed in the medical den, with Jenny and Jelly tending to them constantly. The female kitten woke up two days later and practically clawed Jenny' eyes out trying to escape until Mungojerrie stopped her and allowed the distraught kitten to realise that she was no longer a captive. The young tom never left the den, staying by Rumpleteazer's bedside day and night. Erik was starting to worry about his friend. The ginger cat hadn't eaten for some time and his health seemed to ebb and flow with Rumpleteazer's.

**Just a quick explanation of the names. James Buz-James is mentioned in the poem "The Addressing of Cats." Xerxes, Pettipaws, Wiscus and Pushdragon were all names of T S Elliots cats in real life.**

**James Buz-James, Pettipaws, Wiscus and Pushdragon are all more unusual breeds. James Buz-James is (as mentioned) a Manx, a breed of tailless cat native to the Isle of Man. Pushdragon is a Chinese breed called a Dragon Li. Pettipaws and Wiscus are Toygers, a breed of domestic cat bred to resemble miniature tigers.**

**Finally, the story has just passed 1000 views. Thank to all of you who have continued reading, and put up with me, up to this point, and please continue to enjoy.**


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